


We're Superheroes, What Could Happen?

by BiziBee



Category: Incredibles (Pixar Movies), 逆転裁判 | Gyakuten Saiban | Ace Attorney
Genre: Action/Adventure, Adoption, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Domestic, Dysfunctional Family, Established Relationship, Family Bonding, Family Feels, M/M, Marital Issues, Married Miles Edgeworth/Phoenix Wright, Phoenix is an idiot but he's trying his best, Superpowers, Yes this is an Incredibles AU, thank you for asking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-22
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:28:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 55,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24328804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BiziBee/pseuds/BiziBee
Summary: At one point in time, superheroes were everywhere--on television, on magazines, and of course, on the street--that is, until several disastrous consequences leads to the government permanently banning any and all hero work, forcing the aptly-named Supers into assuming mundane lives. Among them are Phoenix Wright (formerly Captain Indestructible) and his husband Miles Edgeworth (Flexuous), who for the past fifteen years have been attempting to raise their family as normally as they possibly can...which is easier said than done, all things considered. With pressure from life beginning to take a toll on both his marriage and other familial relations, Phoenix can't help but long for the good old days where all he had to do was take down bad guys. So, when opportunity presents itself in the form of working for a mysterious employer, he jumps at the chance to get back in the game...even if it means going behind everyone's backs to do so. However he soon finds himself in deep trouble when said-employer is revealed to be a scorned figure from his past, and now, as much as he'd never planned on it, its his family's turn to suit back up.
Relationships: Mitsurugi Reiji | Miles Edgeworth/Naruhodou Ryuuichi | Phoenix Wright
Comments: 29
Kudos: 70





	1. The Glory Days - 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phoenix, ever the bi disaster, stresses about proposing to his boyfriend, while also dealing with an unending wave of criminals on his way to a dinner date.

**_Excerpt taken from The Daily Tribune --_ **

**_“HEROES AMONG US”_ **

_By Lotta Hart_ _  
_ _Published November 4th, 2018_

_In last week’s daily conducted poll, this question was posed to the general public; “What more do you want to know about supers?”, the top two answers being this: Where did they come from, and who are they outside of their masks?_

_Today, we are going to try and answer those questions. Though this first question is not exactly one that anyone can answer with much certainty or knowledge, unless they were actually there the very day that these illustrious beings were granted their powers._

_Tall tales have spun over the years as to where exactly their crusades began, including but not limited to--conspiracies of secret government tests on human subjects tracing back to the 1940s, or even more fantastical stories of how the gods of above chose to bestow abilities upon those they deemed worthy. Although none of these things have been proven to be true or confirmed so far, there’s no denying that it’d be nigh impossible to imagine what our humble world would be like now without these incredibly gifted individuals in it._

_Speaking of these individuals, that brings us back to the second desired question--who are they, and what kind of lives do they leave? Again, not the most easily answered question provided the very private lives these people have chosen to live . No one, not even their closest family and friends perhaps know either, and for good reason. Imagine the danger, the casualties that could arise should these revelations come to light!_

_As it stands however, the public still very much holds a desire to know as much as possible about their favorite heroes--something of which this paper intends to deliver. To find these things out, I reached out to various supers in an effort for answers--of course, promising that we valued their privacy and would not ask anything too invasive. All that was desired were small glimpses at their lives and how they felt about their work, mere snippets of what it is that we as civilians are allowed to know._

_A taste of their lives if you will._

_Fortunately, I was lucky enough to gain interviews with three of the city’s most currently prominent heroes--Captain Indestructible, Flexuous, and Mystigirl--and presented them with my questions, questions that concerned their identities, their wants, their struggles and the like._

_“Sure I have a secret identity, I don’t know any super who doesn’t.” said Captain Indestructible. “They’re kind of a vital part of our entire existence, they’re who we were before becoming heroes so it’s not like we’re given the option to be without them.”_

_“Admittedly, I find it a bit taxing,” Flexuous said to me.“Having to balance hero work and my own personal life at the same time, that is. It takes a grand amount of effort and concentration to properly ensure that you succeed at both. I suppose in the end...it is worth something.”_

_“Oh yeah, no. A few people know maybe, but not a lot.” laughed Mystigirl, who at the time I recall was eating a burger. She’d only agreed to do the interview with the promise of dinner, seeing as she was just ending her usual night shift and was otherwise famished, so of course I complied. “For all they know, I’m just an average girl who likes food and sci fi action shows. Which, I guess the food part is true but--god, can you imagine if they actually knew I was living out the second part? They’d never believe it!”_

_Varying answers as I’d expected, and an excellent reminder of how no one is the same-- or perfect for that matter. Underneath those masks, those suits and the crime fighting, the conventions and charity benefits, are differing human beings who are just as flawed as you and I are. For even though none seem to resent their abilities or having to juggle their realities, there is the slightest hint that there is more in which they desire. More beyond saving the world, beyond the fame and fortune._

_Or at least, this seems to be the case, as stated by one Captain Indestructible._

_“Honestly, I can’t see myself doing this forever. Don’t get me wrong though, I mean it’s a great life!” he admitted. “But eventually...I don’t know, I kind of want to settle down, y’know? Maybe get married, raise a family, that kind of stuff.”_

_“Settle down? I should think not.” scoffed Flexuous, upon my presenting him with Indestructible’s prior statement. “I’ve come too far to entertain such a thought right now, and it’s not as if I have the time for it either.”_

_“But would you like to someday? Provided it was an option and you had the time.” I’d pressed, to which he’d only shrugged._

_“I suppose. It’s not entirely unappealing to me, but as it currently stands I hold no such desires.”_

* * *

Decisions were not something Phoenix really considered his strong suit. 

You would think they would be, provided the amount of times he’d found himself in a situation that called for immediate action, but that was exactly the problem. You had to come up with those decisions in a mere matter of seconds or else it meant doom for you and everyone else around you, you had no choice, no time to really think it over and carefully weigh your other options.

This was not one of those times, however. Sure, technically he _was_ on a bit of a time crunch since he _did_ sort of have a reservation to uphold, but then again it was only five-thirty last he’d looked at the alarm clock on his nightstand and said-reservation had been booked for seven-forty-five, meaning he still had at least an hour or so to figure this out.

Only, he hoped it wouldn’t take an hour. What sort of excuse would that be, showing up late to dinner all because he couldn’t figure out what tie to wear? In any other situation he supposed he would’ve been fine to throw on the first tie he pulled from his drawer, but then this wasn’t exactly _any_ other situation. 

This was _the_ situation. The one he’d been preparing and planning for for over a month now, which was saying a lot given that he wasn’t the most...meticulous person in the world. So what if he might’ve gotten too comfortable half-assing most of his assignments in college, after all--C’s get degrees, he always said to himself--but this wasn’t something he could just half-ass, or turn in late after forgetting to spell check.

No, everything had to be perfect. It just had to be, especially when he’d put in so much effort. And up until now, it’d been going so well, he’d been so proud of himself for not putting off reserving their spot at the restaurant--in fact it’d been the first thing he’d done this month, especially after hearing how difficult it was to get a spot at that place. Waiting would not have sufficed, less they end up having to find someplace else. His bank account would’ve been grateful to end up somewhere more affordable, come to think of it, no doubt that it’d be empty and crying tomorrow, no doubt. 

He only hoped that it would be worth it.

Now if only he could solve this tie debacle, then the only thing he’d have to worry about was not being late...amongst other obvious things, but he was trying not to think about those things. They weren’t gonna help him finish getting dressed, they’d only be good for getting him lost in thought for the next thirty minutes, and then the next thing he knew Maya would be knocking at his door out of concern--and when he didn’t respond, she’d blow up his phone with a thousand text messages.

Shit, thinking about it now he’d told her it wasn’t gonna take him long to get dressed, and yet he’d already been in here for a good thirty-some minutes already. The poor girl had a History test in the morning and yet here he was, holding her hostage in his apartment just so he wouldn’t be alone in having to prepare for this. 

He was grateful, however. Otherwise he was sure he would’ve self imploded by now...which given his strength, probably wouldn’t be a good thing.

Exhaling heavily, he ran a hand through his hair, continuing to survey the ties splayed out on his unmade bed. 

Navy blue. Dark gray. 

These were the two he’d managed to narrow it down to, but even then it didn’t mean he was entirely decided yet. Holding them up to the mirror hadn’t helped much either, as they’d both looked quite pleasant. That’s what he’d spent the past several minutes doing, over and over until throwing them back to his bed in defeat. 

Hands went to his hips, shoulders sagging. This was ridiculous, it shouldn’t be this hard to decide between two ties when he’d already narrowed it down from the ten others he’d had out earlier. He should be in the home stretch now, putting one of these things on and heading out the door. It’d take him a good long while to make the drive to the part of the city the restaurant was in, and if he kept up like this there was a good chance he’d be caught right in the middle of the evening traffic.

Which was the last thing he wanted, when he’d _promised_ he’d be on time, and put together. And right now, he was going to be neither of these things if he kept up like this.

“Guess another look wouldn’t hurt…” he muttered to himself, picking both ties up and turning back around to face the small mirror propped up on his dresser. First the navy blue, then the dark gray. Same as before, they both looked nice. Too nice, and too difficult to decide.

Hm. But then, on closer inspection, the dark grey might blend in with his suit too much...had he not looked long enough to realize this the last time?

Yes. The answer was definitely yes, but it was also navy. The navy blue tie, which stayed in his hands while the other was hastily shoved back into his half-opened drawer. Okay, good. This was good, this was progress. Now he just had to concern himself with...oh. 

Fuck.

Tying the tie, something else that wasn’t one of his strong suits.

It was just as stupid as the fact that it’d taken him this long to decide, that he couldn’t do something as simple as tying his own tie--or his shoe laces for that matter. Imagine that, he could break through walls and lift tour buses all on his own, but the minute he was faced with trying to tie a proper knot he panicked.

God, it figured his only clip-on tie would have to be in the laundry, else he wouldn’t be having to deal with this right now. He was half-tempted to go fish it out of the basket, but he doubted his showing up to a fancy five star restaurant with a large ketchup stain would be at all appreciated. 

In the midst of his beginning attempts to fix the tie around his neck, a loud thud emitted from the living room, followed by a cry of _“No way!”_. Footsteps rushed towards his bedroom door, which was promptly thrown open as Maya rushed in, clutching the day’s newspaper in her hands.

“The nerve of her, using that quote--I just don’t believe it!” She thrust the paper into Phoenix’s direct line of vision despite his yelp of protest, finger directly pointed at a quote from the article she’d been reading.

_“Oh, being a hero? Yeah, it’s actually really awesome!” said Mystigirl enthusiastically, mouth now full and crumbs flying everywhere. I ended up having to pull my notepad back so it wouldn’t get stained. “It definitely comes with cool things like this suit, I got this for free--though now that I actually think about it, I get a lot of things for free these days. Perks of hero work, I guess.”_

He stared blankly, first at the quote, then at Maya, whose face was dropped into a full pout.

“Uh, I’m not exactly seeing--what exactly is the problem here?”

“The problem is Lotta Hart, that’s what.” She let the paper fall into his hands while she dropped onto the edge of his bed, arms crossing. “She’s making it sound like I’m in this for the perks only! Like I’m a kid who thinks this is all a popularity contest or something, can you believe it?”

“Well, I mean, kinda.” He snorted, folding the paper together and placing it on his dresser as Maya let out a gasp of offense. “Not your fault for being eager, though I wouldn’t take it too personally. I can’t even begin to count the times I’ve been misinterpreted over something, trust me, you’ll get used to it after you’ve been interviewed a few times.”

“Yeah, maybe, but this was my first one! I didn’t think it’d happen in my _first_ one!” She pointed out, groaning as she flopped onto her back.“And to think I agreed to meet with her, I take it all back now.”

“Bit too late for that don’t you think?” Back turned towards her, Phoenix grunted as he began his second attempt at fixing his tie in place. “It’s already published, what are you gonna do besides brainwashing everyone into forgetting about it?”

He instantly regretted his words at the sight of her in the mirror, shooting up from the bed with a sudden beam of excitement coming over her face.

“You know, that’s not a bad idea actually--”

“Right.” The second attempt proved to be a failure, the tie slipping loose from the sorry excuse of a knot he’d tried to make. Oh well, third time's the charm. “It’s a terrible idea and I’m sorry that I said anything about it.”

“Aw Nick--”

“No, seriously. Our job is to solve problems, Maya, not create them.” With his third try also falling through, he shook his head and stepped back from the mirror. “Though... to be fair, I’d rather deal with a bunch of brainwashed journalists over this…”

He turned towards her, gesturing towards the tie, which he’d only succeeded in mangling into a lopsided mess. She covered her mouth, not quite enough to stifle the snort that came from her nostrils and he grimaced, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“And to think,” Sliding off the bed, she walked over to him, motioning for him to lean closer. “You said you weren’t nervous earlier, talk about hypocrisy.”

“Hey I stand by that statement, alright? I’m not nervous, I just--” He complied, eyes drifting elsewhere while she worked on untangling the knotted silk hanging from his neck. “I suck at tying ties, that’s all. You don’t have to be nervous for that.”

“Except that you are.” Two tugs, and it unraveled. She lifted his collar, tucking the tie underneath before moving to work on tying it together. “Seriously, your thoughts are going by so fast _I’m_ out of breath, and even if I hadn’t sensed them I would’ve been able to tell just by looking at you.”

Phoenix wilted slightly, partly embarrassed at this because of two reasons-one being that Maya had read his mind again, without his knowing so...though he should’ve expected it, to be honest. He supposed it came with the territory, being friends with a telepath--much as he’d constantly requested for her not to go into his mind, sometimes she did, just out of habit or if she wanted to confirm something that wasn’t being said. That he was used to, and was why it wasn’t the main source of his embarrassment at this moment.

No, his main source was how he’d both tried and failed to hide his extremely overwrought disposition. Add that as a third thing that wasn’t his strong suit, he should really consider writing down a top five of those sometime. 

“That obvious, huh?” 

“Very obvious. Honestly I’m shocked you haven’t broken into hives yet--or are you saving that for your actual wedding day, because I gotta tell ya, that’s not a very good look--”

“Whoa, wait a second. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves--ow!” He stumbled, almost toppling over as she looped the tie, giving it a firm yank. “I mean I haven’t even received an answer, let alone proposed yet. Who’s to say if there’ll be a wedding or not?”

“Sure there’ll be a wedding, because he’s gonna say yes!” Maya gave the tie a final tug to ensure its security, and stepped back. “He’s got no reason not to, no matter what he said in Hart’s interview.”

“Hey, no. No, don’t bring that up, I was already worrying a long time before that thing was published--” He stopped short at the sight of her raised and equally as doubtful eyebrows, sighing. “Wait. Were you in my head again?”

“I...maybe?”

Another sigh, and he walked to his closet, retrieving a pair of dress shoes from the bag hanging on the other side of the door. 

“Damn. Guess I should’ve known better, then…” Sitting on the chair adjacent to his desk, he slid his foot into one of these shoes, reaching down to buckle it. “Okay, yes. Yes, that interview is causing me great distress, a lot actually. It’s all I’ve been thinking about since before you arrived, god I don’t know how you didn’t figure it out sooner.”

“I did,” Maya tucked another loose strand of her hair back, going to sit next to him. “I didn’t really want to mention it again though, I only did because...well, I dunno, I thought you needed the reassurance. That’s why you called me over here, wasn’t it?”

“It was, and I appreciate it.” He slid his foot into his other shoe, buckling that one as well. “But that doesn’t change what was said in that article, much as I wish it did.”

“It doesn’t matter what was said! C’mon Nick,” Huffing, she followed after him as he went to retrieve his coat. “You can’t let a few quotes scare you away, besides, weren’t you just saying yourself that this kind of stuff is always misprinted?”

“Well, yeah--”

“Then there you are! Nothing to worry about!”

“Oh, there I’m not.” 

Phoenix threw his coat on, one of his arms getting caught as he tried to slide it through the sleeve. Maya was quick to assist, tugging down the fabric down his forearm and allowing it to go through the rest of the way without problem. 

“It doesn’t change much about how I feel, I know it shouldn’t--” He began to button the coat up, fumbling with the buttons in the process. “I’ve been planning this thing for so long, what if it all goes to waste? What if he really does feel that way, and this was all for nothing, I know we’ve talked about--like, marriage and all that before but I’m still not sure how--and shit, what if he’s read the article too, he could be expecting--”

“Nick. Hey.” Maya held up a hand, his mouth snapping shut as she grabbed him by the shoulders, turning him to face her. “Deep breaths, okay, you’re turning bluer than your suit.”

“Huh, my suit isn’t blue--”

“Other suit, but nevermind that. Listen, he’s gonna say yes.” She squeezed his shoulders somewhat. “He’s gonna say yes, and you’re gonna have a big, beautiful Spring wedding, with flowers and everything. And I’m gonna be your Person of Honor, whether you want me to or not.”

Phoenix blinked.

“You sound so certain about that...I don’t get...I mean, how can you sound so certain?”

“Because I just am.” She shrugged. “I dunno, maybe I’m able to see the future now, you never know.”

“Maya…”

“Relax, I’m kidding!” Hands flew back from his shoulders, up in defense. “Seriously, relax. You’ve got this, alright? You’re Captain Indestructible, you’ve faced worse things than a marriage proposal. If anything, this should be a walk in the park for you.”

“I…well…” 

Good point. A very good point now that he thought about it, but somehow it only managed to cease his worries by a smidge. Still, it made for a better thought to focus on rather than what he’d read in that article. 

“Yeah, you know what? You’re right. You’re absolutely right.” He resumed and finished buttoning his coat, smoothing it over. “I’ve got this, I’ve been putting too much effort into it not to. Who cares what Hart wrote, I’m still doing this. No promises on if the wedding will be in the Spring but…”

“It’ll be Spring. You know he’s gonna insist on it.” Snickering, Maya crossed her arms as she headed out of the room. “Somehow I get the feeling you’re not going to have a say on the matter.”

“Well hang on, wait a minute--yeah, actually, you’re probably right.” 

He chuckled and went back to his dresser, where his keys and wallet sat waiting alongside a small black box. Biting his lip, he picked it up, running his thumb over the soft velvet before popping it open to look at the ring inside. It was a simple gold band--nothing too fancy or expensive since that wasn’t exactly in his budget--with a rose red gem encrusted in the center, two smaller white gemstones on each side.

Just looking at it made his heart swell, almost as much as it did the day he’d gone to pick it out. Originally buying a ring wasn’t in his plan since he was still very busy trying to pay off student loans, and so he’d thought to do the next best thing--get permission from his parents’ to use his gran’s old engagement ring, to which they’d happily agreed. There was always the risk of it not fitting of course, but he figured that he could try and get it resized if anything. 

_That_ was his plan, at first. Until the day he’d gone to the jeweler, and out of sheer curiosity had decided to browse what rings they had available while he waited.

That’s when he saw _it_. 

Catching his eye almost immediately, shining and glittering in a direct beam of sunlight pouring in through the window. 

He’d never meant to buy it, had only asked to have a closer look, but the next thing he knew he was signing off several forms and swiping his debit card through the scanner, then walking out with not the resized ring as he’d intended to--well, no, he had--but it just wasn’t resized. It remained the size it was, and it went right back to his parents’ house to remain as a family keepsake until one of his cousins decided to use it.

And the other ring? 

It went home with Phoenix, staying nestled in his drawers until this evening, when he’d taken it out alongside everything else. He hadn’t held it since the day he bought it, and suddenly, now that was he holding it again, realized just how real this was. That this was happening, and it was happening today. After so much time of planning, and worry...he was going to do it. 

He was going to ask the man he loved to marry him. 

To hell with whatever the article had said. He wasn’t about to back down all because of a few seeds of doubt, he was goddamn Captain Indestructible. If he could successfully stop a runaway train, then he could definitely pull off a semi-decent marriage proposal.

Nodding to himself, he clapped the box shut and shoved it into his coat pocket alongside his other things, then left the bedroom. 

* * *

Well, so much for trying to be on time tonight.

Even after having to spend another two minutes in his apartment reassuring Maya that her pep talk was successful, and the next few after that walking her to the bus stop and saying goodbye, then going to the parking garage across the street to retrieve his car, there didn’t seem to be any signs of traffic on the horizon as of yet--which should’ve meant that the ride across the city would be smooth and hopefully uneventful. 

It didn’t seem like it was going to be either of those things, however. Because of course, that was just his luck wasn’t it?

It was always his luck, especially in this profession. Some sort of convenient crime was bound to occur regardless of what his civilian life currently needed from him, and it was usually when he was on a deadline. Thinking about it now, it was a complete miracle he’d managed to graduate college with all the valuable study time he’d spent having to deal with a possible bomb threat, or the times he’d been tardy to class all because some idiot decided to pull a bank heist at nine in the morning.

Tonight, it was a car chase-post robbery, or at least that’s what he’d been able to somewhat make out through the crackling static of the radio scanner. No sooner had he gotten into the car and pulled out onto the road had it informed him, the display screen unfolding to two flashing lights moving at an alarmingly fast pace on the digital map. 

Against his better judgement, Phoenix risked a further inspection upon pulling up to a stop sign, zooming in on the map to get a better look at the street address’--430 Lafayette Avenue, shit. He was so close, just another left and he’d be there within fifty yards, maybe even if sooner if--

No. 

No, this wasn’t his concern right now, he couldn’t afford for it to be. He’d planned ahead, he’d done his rounds this morning and this afternoon so he’d have the entire evening free and besides, it wasn’t like he was the only super in this entire town who could take care of it. Someone else was bound to have found out about this chase, were likely in pursuit of themselves at this very moment.

But then, what exactly was the chance of that if he’d just heard about himself? Not everyone was in their car or house, with their police scanners and maps able to know about this the minute it happened. Maybe, if they’d been surveying from the rooftops then there’d be a possibility but even that was uncertain.

Pressing his lips together, he hesitated, considered his options...which weren’t a lot. Did he leave the chase as it was, let the police handle it with the hope that someone else had taken notice and would soon intervene? Or did he go ahead and deal with it himself, since he was so close and clearly had a lot of free time until he got to the restaurant? 

Though he’d hoped to spend that free time working up his nerves, it did seem more convenient that he be the one to intervene now, especially when he was right nearby. If he got lucky, it’d take him what, five minutes...maybe four, tops and he could be right back on his way again, no harm no foul. No risk of pushing it, no risk of stumbling in five minutes late. He might look a bit disheveled depending on how well this went, but he’d still have enough time to freshen up in the bathroom...yeah.

Yeah, he could do this.

Sparing a quick glance at his watch to ensure that he still had time--which he did, he had plenty --he stepped on the gas, accelerating past the stop sign and promptly swerving to his left before switching the car into autopilot. A button was pressed, a flip switched, and his seat reclined back, his charcoal suit and coat soon replaced by one of blue and red. Gloves now donned his hands as well as a mask covering his face, and by the time he’d sat back up, the car itself had undergone a similar transformation--now much sleeker and newer looking than the old model it’d been beforehand.

Phoenix glanced at the screen again, startled to see that the robbers had seemed to have made a sharp turn in the direction opposite of the one he was heading. Cursing under his breath, he proceeded to punch in new coordinations while simultaneously shifting the vehicle into high gear, suddenly very much thankful for the autopilot feature. It’d been the only reason he’d accepted this car from the Agency in the first place, otherwise he’d never have dreamt of using it as a means of transportation.

Not that the bike he’d been using before had been better, but it wasn’t as _scary_ to drive. He still couldn’t believe he’d managed to avoid rear ending anyone in the early days of owning the rightly dubbed Indestructobile, but it helped that it was able to drive itself, especially in scenarios such as this. He’d never trust himself to manage driving _and_ having to navigate all these buttons at the same time.

Turning another sharp corner, he could just barely make out the faint sounds of rapid gunfire alongside police sirens wailing in the distance. This was followed by the sight of a young man hanging out from the window of a beat up old clunker, machine gun in his arms as he fired off continuous rounds towards the pursuing officers. 

Alright, there they were. Time for a last minute plan of action, what could be the quickest and least disastrous way to wrap this up and be on his way in the next few minutes? 

He supposed that he could just swerve the Indestructobile in front of them, catch them off guard and let them crash into him. This thing was made of the strongest materials out there, there was no way he’d sustain much damage, let alone a scratch...though on second thought, scratch that. The officers might not notice him in enough time to stop and there could be a whole pile up if he wasn’t careful, and that was something he didn’t have time to deal with right now. 

So what was the better option here? Throwing himself out of the vehicle and catching it--no good, that could end in a pile up as well….what else…

He couldn’t waste so much time with this, they were getting closer. Whatever he decided on, it needed to be happening within the next several seconds or else it was all going to go terribly wrong. On a whim, he looked down at his dashboard, surveying the buttons for any help, trying to remember what the least lethal gadget installed in this car was. He’d not used them all that much as he’d never seen the need to, and for that reason could barely remember what was what. What he could do...oh. 

Oh, he could use _this_ , how had he never noticed it before now? 

Giving the knob a sharp twist, the hood of his car split apart, allowing the formerly hidden harpoon to pop up in its place. Closer, closer, they were getting closer--he had to time this just right, else he ended up shooting the wrong thing--there they were, right in front of him. Right in front, steady, stay put--

_Now!_

He slammed his fist down on the knob, releasing the harpoon from its resting place and straight into the engine of the clunker, almost releasing a sigh of relief. Suffice it to say he was more used to pursuing criminals on foot, that and using his fists to deal with them. Gadgets just...weren’t his thing, so when he did have to use them there was a fifty/fifty shot as to whether or not he’d mess up.

Turning off autopilot, he brought his car to a halt long enough to pull it backwards, in turn forcefully jerking the other car forward. It swerved side to side momentarily, from the road to the sidewalk, before colliding with a fire hydrant. There was a crash, a bang, and an explosion of water shooting upwards into the air as the harpoon retracted, folding back underneath the Indestructobile’s hood, while Phoenix stared on in wonder.

Holy shit. He’d have to send the guys at the Agency a thank you note for this, maybe an apology too since he’d kind of made fun of them for including all these gadget upgrades in the first place, because by God was he sorry. Even if he still did prefer practical methods of defeat, of course, but those methods took far longer than this had. 

Though it looked like that would have to wait until later, either way. As the police began to close in on the scene, swears and shouting emitted from the wreckage as the young man scrambled free from the window, making a mad dash towards the alley. 

“Oh no, you don’t.” 

Shifting into park, Phoenix popped out from the driver’s side and gave way to chase, one that was over and done with in a matter of seconds. One punch to the jaw and the other man was on the ground, half-conscious as Phoenix dragged him back to where the police were now waiting. 

“Hey, caught this one trying to get away,” he offered, handing him off to the one officer that wasn’t visibly occupied. “Figured I’d save you the trouble of having to put out a warrant later, y’know?”

“Nice, thanks Captain Indestructible.” The officer nodded back at him approvingly as they cuffed the thief, who was mumbling incoherently under his breath, then led him off to the nearby squad car where his partner was no doubt already waiting. Phoenix turned to head back towards his own vehicle, when a loud cheer caught his attention and he looked over at the adjacent sidewalk to see a group of youths having flocked over from the park. How long they’d been watching he didn’t know, but thankfully they didn’t seem to be harmed or alarmed--instead, they whooped and waved their arms, jumping and down in earnest. 

_“You’re the best, Captain!”_

_“We love you!”_

Ah, his favorite words. Those never got hold and he was sure he’d never tire of hearing them. 

He grinned, shooting them all a quick wave and salute before resuming his trek back towards the Indestructobile. Already, he could hear the radio scanner going off again as he neared it--something about a tour bus robbery this time, and he had to repress a sigh. What was with everyone today, deciding to go out and commit crimes at the same hour? God, he was never about to complain about early morning bank heists ever again after this. Did he--

He did. 

He still had time. It was barely seven o’clock according to his watch, and if he could get away before the crowd decided to pounce on him for autographs then he’d be fine. There would always be more fan events and conventions, the autographs could wait until then. 

“Captain Indestructible!”

Or not.

He was barely halfway back into the driver’s seat before he looked up to see one of the youths from the park coming his way, a young girl--possibly no older than Maya was, with bright red hair that made her stand out like a sore thumb from the others. Only...it wasn’t just her hair making her stand out, in fact, there was something very odd about her compared to the group of otherwise more plain and normal group of civilians she’d emerged from. 

Her clothes.

She wore a bright pink outfit--so bright that it was almost blinding--complete with tights and a long sheer cape that hung from her shoulders, a matching mask covering her eyes. A wide, sickeningly sweet smile was spread out on her lips, which parted as she called out to him again in a just as equally sweet voice. 

“Captain, wait! Wait just a second, will you?” Hands still on the door, he seized in place as she approached, eyes darting between her and the scanner as it sounded like the robber was fleeing from the bus and taking the streets. 

Dammit, no! He was wasting precious time here! But he also couldn’t just leave--how would that look to everyone else, driving away from a fan like this? That is, if she was a fan, but who else would she be...though, he couldn’t help but think she looked somewhat familiar but he couldn’t quite place it. 

“Uh Miss, I..” he started, hands raised. “I’d love to chat but I’ve really gotta--”

“You’ve gotta go save the world and stuff, I know. This won’t take long, I promise.” The girl stopped in front of him, pausing to catch her breath before continuing. “I was just hoping to get an update on my offer, I’d think that I’ve given you more than enough time to think it over.”

“Your...offer?”

“Oh Captain, don’t tell me you’ve forgotten already?” She blinked innocently, taking a step closer to him. “Last month, at the fan convention. We had quite the interesting chat before you had to run off…”

Fan....convention…those words jogged something loose in his mind, melding with memories of that day, of the faces he’d seen and spoken to. It was difficult to say at first since he’d spoken to so many, shook so many hands that it was hard to remember the names and faces. Even so, he suddenly wasn’t finding it very difficult to place this girl anymore.

He was sure he remembered now, it had to be her. She’d been persistent in speaking with him, approaching him several times throughout the event before finally convincing him to sit with her during the short time he’d had to grab something to eat. The next several minutes had been spent with his listening as she’d rambled on and on about how much she admired him, wanted to do hero work as well and had been looking for so long to find the right hero to train her as every single other one she’d talked to before now had turned her away--and for a very good reason at that, as he’d soon come to learn she didn’t exactly have powers. 

Yes, it was all coming back to him now. Only, he wasn’t sure why she was here, approaching him again like this when he was fairly certain he’d turned down her offer before he’d rushed off back then.

“Dahlia...Hawthorne, right? Was that it?” Her eyes brightened at his recollection of her name, and she smiled even wider, if that were possible. “Okay, okay look, I know I might have sort of rushed off in a hurry that evening, but if I recall correctly, I already gave you my answer--”

“You did, I know. But I figured it wouldn’t hurt to give you some more time,” She persisted, standing on the tips of her toes ever so slightly. “After all, you were in a hurry. I thought you’d have come to your senses by now.”

“Senses--wha--” Reaching into the car, he adjusted the volume on the scanner. “I’d hoped the same thing about you, I mean--wanting to assume hero work despite your having no powers? That’s dangerous, far too risky--”

“I figured that, yes, but it's a risk I’m willing to take--”

“I’m not, though! Which is why I turned you down in the first place.” Okay, according to the scanner it didn’t sound like the bus robber had gotten that far away yet. He could still nab him if he hurried. “And it's why I’m turning you down now, I’m sorry, Ms. Hawthorne--” 

“Dahlia. Call me Dahlia.”

“Right, Dahlia. Not that this chat isn’t fun, but I’ve actually gotta go--” A light gasp as she stepped back, lowering from her tiptoes while he slid back into the car, typing the robber’s last known coordinates into the gps. “You’ve got my answer, and I’m not gonna repeat it. I shouldn’t have to either, it's just common sense--civilians are civilians for a reason, and my job is to protect you, not train you. And I know you probably don’t feel the same, but I’d kind of like to keep it that way.”

He pressed the button to close the door but it was caught halfway by Dahlia, who gripped it with both hands even with it trying to resume closing. 

“I don’t think you understand, Captain…” Any traces of her sweet smile and voice were gone, replaced by a hard glare. “You don’t get to say no to me, nobody does. If they do, they’ve never gotten away with it.”

“Funny. I just did.”

Without much warning, the door stopped closing and instead popped open, no thanks to Phoenix pressing the opposite button. Dahlia let out a brief cry as she was knocked back onto the sidewalk, head smacking against the telephone pole next to her. With her now being temporarily dazed, he took this as his chance to turn on autopilot, and sped off to his next destination.

* * *

Phoenix huffed, willing himself to keep his eyes upwards as he scaled his way up the fire escape. _Don’t look down and you’ll be fine_ , he’d always told himself in these scenarios, were probably the only words in his mind at this current moment, alongside his wondering of why the universe couldn’t have granted him with a double package of both super strength and the ability to fly--as that would definitely make his job a whole lot easier, not to mention _convenient_. 

He didn’t have time for this, he was sure it was close to seven-twenty by now and that only left a few short minutes to get to the restaurant if he wanted to be on time. Out of all the apartment buildings this guy had had to flee to, it’d just had to have been the one without a working elevator, wouldn’t it? 

He’d be lucky if he were still here by the time he made it to the top. It was likely, especially since he'd only fled the bus a few short minutes ago, his last known location having been pinpointed somewhere around 240 Bird Boulevard--a street that was filled with wall-to-wall apartment complexes...yes, because that’s exactly what Phoenix had been hoping for. 

He’d dreaded the idea of having to go door to door in an effort to find a witness, but thankfully an elderly woman who was out walking her dog approached as soon as he’d arrived, informing him of a rather “suspicious” looking individual passing her by as she’d gone down the stairs. Thanking her, he’d proceeded to head into the building only to find out shortly that the elevator was out of order, before being presented with the choices of the stairs or the fire escape--neither sounding exactly preferable. Although going up the stairs certainly provided a more comfortable means of getting to the roof rather than the rickety fire escape he’d eventually settled on, it wasn’t the most covert method available and could easily result in the guy taking immediate notice of him the second he got there. 

Which he still could, even if coming up this way was less conspicious, and Phoenix anticipated this. In his earlier days of hero work he’d make the mistake of not doing so, in-turn ending up with a dozen dime sized bruises all over in his body--never having been more grateful for his powers than in those moments. God knows he’d take being mildly sore for a whole week over ending up in the hospital but even then, he knew he couldn’t continue being so reckless if he wanted to get the job done properly. 

And you couldn’t get the job done properly if you were bent over in pain, he’d learned that the hard way and liked to consider himself well past those days. 

So, as soon as he’d made it to the top of the fire escape, he briefly assessed the situation before officially setting foot on the rooftop. The thief was still there alright, back turned as he was hunched over his stolen goods like a kid surveying his Christmas presents. Some handbags looked unopened, some having already been emptied of their contents, of which he was currently pawing through.

He had to suppress a laugh at the sight, really, with it being all too familiar to him. This was something he could complete in his sleep if he wanted to. He’d sneak up, maybe make a couple of quips, and then knock him out, tie him up and leave him for the police to find. They must be on their way, that is if that elderly lady had done what he’d asked her and called them by now.

All was not lost, he still had a chance of keeping that reservation and he had every intention to.

“You know, I sincerely doubt any of that belongs to you.” The man jolted upwards, spinning around as Phoenix descended onto the roof, gravel crunching under his feet. “But I think you know this already so I’m gonna give you a choice here, either you hand them over--”

Like clockwork, the man whipped out a gun previously hooked to his belt, aiming it Phoenix’s way. He sighed, fighting back the urge to roll his eyes. Guns, why’d they always have guns? And furthermore why did they think it was a wise idea to point them at someone who was clearly not the police--or a regular human being for that matter?

“--or we can do this the hard way, alright. Okay, that works for me.”

He advanced further towards him, the man’s grip on the gun tightening as it trembled in his hold, knuckles visibly whitening. 

“B-back off, I’m warning you--” he stammered. “Or I’ll--”

“Or you’ll shoot me? Yeah, I’ve heard that one before.” Fists clenched as he drew nearer, the man stumbling back. “Too many times come to think of it, you’d think you guys would learn by now…”

A click. He was squeezing the trigger, set to release any given second. Okay, this wasn’t bad, this wasn’t all bad, it was only one guy and one gun, he could deal with this--just a simple tuck and roll and he’d be out of the way, then he could jump back up and knock the gun of his hands, apprehend him--

An effortless plan, easy to execute. If anything he’d barely be grazed. 

He readied himself, positioning himself in the stance to drop when an impossibly thin fist shot out from behind the roof vent, knocking the gun free from the bewildered thief’s hands. Before the man could even have a chance to react, the fist proceeded to collide first with his jaw, then his stomach with enough force to send him folding into a crumpled heap while Phoenix watched in bewilderment.

Well, _that_ had just happened, hadn’t it? He hadn’t been counting on that.

Tearing his eyes away from the groaning criminal, he looked towards the roof vent as the fist slunk its way behind it, disappearing entirely from view. Seconds later, another man emerged--suited similarly to Phoenix, but in colors of magenta and white. His head was upturned, as he and the other Super locked immediate eyes with one another.

A tense two minutes passed before either one of them spoke, the rooftop going completely silent save for the pained moans of the criminal and the city traffic going by beneath them.

“Flexuous...uh…hi.” 

“Captain Indestructible.” He returned the greeting, curtly and swiftly enough that it came across sounding more or less like a stated fact rather than a greeting. “Fancy seeing you here, I’d have thought you to be more occupied with the affairs of your own neighborhood.”

“Yeah, well. Surprisingly my neighborhood isn't the only place where crimes occur.” Irritably, Phoenix shuffled his feet, regaining his prior stance while Flexuous made his way away from the vent entirely, looking to the crumpled up man on the ground. “Besides, I happened to be passing by. Might as well, right?”

Flexuous only let out a small _humph_ in response, kneeling just long enough to grab the thief by his collar. 

“Hang on, wait a minute--what are you doing now?”

“Finishing the job.” He huffed, lifting the man’s currently-limp frame to its feet, his head sagging back. “Since that’s something you’re clearly incapable of doing yourself, I only think that’s it fair--”

“Incapable? I’m sorry, but I think I had a pretty good handle on everything before you showed up--” 

“Indeed?” His gaze snapped back towards Phoenix, though his hold on the man never weakened, eyes shining from behind his mask and scrutinizing him intently. “Tell me then, Captain, does your idea of having a good handle on things involve getting yourself shot? Because there was an incredibly good chance of that happening had I not shown up when I did, if anything you should be thanking me.”

“Thank you for what, that you knocked out the guy I climbed an entire fire escape to catch?”

“Well, yes.” He looked away, turning his focus back to the thief. “Though I’ll have you know, I was trailing him from the minute he robbed the bus. I suppose in retrospect I should really be thanking you for distracting him long enough for me to catch up.”

“And what were you going to do when you did catch up to him, risk getting shot yourself?” How’s that any better than me risking myself, really. Did you mean to contradict yourself there or…”

He felt a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, taking a step yet another step closer.

“Could it be you were just...concerned for me? Is that it?”

The slightest hint of scarlett dusted Flexuous’ cheeks, only somewhat visible in part to his mask obscuring the rest of his face.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“I’m sure you do.”

 _Kerplunk._ The thief was released, falling back onto the gravel as the other Super once more turned his gaze Phoenix’s way, stalking towards him with both hands remained steadfast by his sides. The two men soon stood face to face, closer than what was probably needed, close enough for their shoulders to nearly touch. 

“If you’re implying what I think you are…” The scarlett had faded from Flexuous' face somewhat, but his eyes were dark, gray and intense, fixated steadfastly and firmly on his lighter blue ones. His tone was low, warning but refined. “It is a ridiculous notion, and I’ll thank you to keep it to yourself.”

“Oh right, of course. Because we wouldn’t want the public to think you suddenly favored me or anything.”

“I should think not, I have a reputation to maintain. If people know that I’ve been galavanting around with the likes of you then--”

“Then you’d be tarnished, I know. I’m pretty sure we’ve had this conversation before.” Phoenix inhaled, shaking his head. “At least once or twice, I think. You know, you’ve really got to be more flexible than that--”

He was cut off, and quite abruptly at a tingling sensation in the lower half of his body, and looked down in time to see Flexuous’ arm, stretched and extended as it snaked around his waist, reaching up to settle on his chest, limber fingers tautly caressing it. 

“More flexible, you say?” The faintest hint of a smirk played on his lips while Phoenix could feel his own cheeks beginning to flush. “Come now Captain, I hardly think that’s _my_ problem.”

“I…” 

He pressed his lips together, unable to resist the warmth rippling throughout his body. It was an undeniable warmth, so euphoric and exhilarating that he visibly shuddered, almost stumbling backwards in the process. Christ, was he glad Maya wasn’t here to read his thoughts right now, or she’d never let him hear the end of it. 

“Huh…uh, wait…”

Shaking himself, he blinked several times over just as the arm retracted, slipping back into its normal place. The other man was turned, poised to make a grand exit off the building, but glanced back at his request, eyebrows raised in detectable amusement.

“I’m not uh...I’m not doing anything later, if you’re not--that is, maybe you’d like to go out for a few drinks? Only if you don’t have other plans, I mean--”

“Hm, an enticing offer.” He turned, head tilting somewhat to the side. “I suppose I’ll consider it..if nothing else comes up, that is.”

With that and without so much as a goodbye, he resumed his trek towards the building’s edge, said-trek breaking into a small jog before he leapt. His breath hitching, Phoenix was transfixed into watching as Flexuous’ dexterous form gracefully and deftly maneuvered itself to the adjacent apartment’s rooftop, followed by the next, and the next, until he was no longer anything but a blur fading into the night sky. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I've a question, and it'll probably be easy to figure out. What happens when Em is in quarantine and decides to not only play through the AA series, but also rewatches one of their favorite movies?
> 
> This. This is exactly what happens.
> 
> Admittedly I'm still kinda new to the AA fandom, so please bare with me and my lackluster characterization skills. All I knew was that I needed this AU to be a thing, and like I've got more than enough free time on my hands now so why not? I'm too impulsive to stop myself lmao, anyways, feel free to leave comments and/or kudos if you care to!


	2. The Glory Days - 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Following his encounter with Flexuous, Phoenix continues to be delayed before he's finally able to arrive at his reservation. Despite being later than he'd meant to be, the night ends on a positive note after some reminiscing and concerned venting from both sides of the party.

Seconds after Flexuous’ departure, Phoenix found himself breaking from his stupor as police sirens began to fade in from the distance, reminding him of the actual reason for why he was up on this roof in the first place. So that woman had called them after all, good to know there were still people who could actually be bothered to listen. Especially when he was on a deadline, normally he wouldn’t mind having to haul this man off to the police station himself but that just wasn’t something he could afford to do right now.

He peered over the edge of the building to see a squad car pulling up, two officers emerging and running up the steps to the entrance. A low groan alerted him into glancing back to the man on the ground, one of his lower lips visibly twitching as his head turned ever so slightly. 

Having knocked out enough people to realize this was a sign that the man was regaining consciousness, Phoenix wisely retrieved the gun from where Flexuous had thrown it just a couple of minutes ago, crushing it in his hands. If there was anything else he’d learned over the years, it was that the first move of any formerly unconscious criminal would be to make a move for their gun as soon they woke up. 

Something else he’d had to learn the hard way, and was usually the first thing he’d do after ensuring that said-criminal was out cold. The next step was to find some means to bind them, and either take them to the station himself or wait for the police to arrive--and seeing as they were already on their way up the stairs at this current moment, opted to do the latter this time around. 

Glancing around the stolen goods for anything he might use as temporary cuffs, he spotted a red scarf spilling out from one of the opened handbags. That’d do the trick. Grabbing it, he made quick work of tying the best knot possible--which given his difficulties with his tie earlier, proved to be easier said than done--and positioned the man up against the roof vent. His head sagged forward, while he continued to groan and writhe.

Phoenix gave him a hearty pat on the shoulder, before getting back to his feet and pulling his glove back to check his watch. Seven-thirty, god he was really pushing it, wasn’t he? So much for leaving early, next time he was just going to leave on time and keep the scanner turned off. He made a mental note to go ahead and do that as soon as he’d gotten back to the car, he couldn’t risk anymore distractions, anymore jobs--

“Right there, oh my god! Someone do something!”

And on that note, he might as well invest in a good pair of earplugs as well. If it wasn’t the radio then somebody was always shouting for help, which ordinarily he wouldn’t mind but fuck, it was like the entire world was against him tonight. Now he remembered why he never bothered to make plans like this, they almost always blew up in his face.

Oh well, such was the life of a Super. There was nothing much he could do about it except...well, his job. 

Turning towards the direction of the scream, which multiplied into several more as Phoenix looked in just enough time to see a man plummeting from the rooftop of a neighboring building. Without much thought, he sped off in that direction--his mantra of _“don’t look down”_ repeating over and over in his head as he jumped. In a mere matter of his seconds, his body collided with that of the falling man, glass shattering and flying everywhere as the two landed on a carpeted floor. 

Grunting, Phoenix lifted his head, shaking it as a low moan sounded from beneath him. 

“Something’s broken...I think something’s broken...my legs…”

“Yeah? Better that than your neck.” 

Huffing, he placed both hands on either side and pushed himself up, dusting off the bits of glass from his hair and suit. He wasn’t sure where they were, as the entire room was mostly dark, save for the few lights streaming in from the window. It soon became clearer as his eyes adjusted, and he caught sight of the words _“First National Bank”_ illuminated on a nearby wall, alongside several teller stations beneath it.

Ah, so this was what it felt like to be in a bank after hours. He couldn’t say he’d ever been in one this late before, as most of the late night robberies he’d thwarted before had been while the thieves were escaping outside.

It felt kind of unnerving if he were being honest. 

Like something could go wrong at literally any second, which he could easily blame on his hero instincts and own paranoia if it weren’t for the incessant beeping his ears were starting to pick up on. Rational thoughts told him to leave well enough alone, to just get this man down to the paramedics and book it to his reservation, but his other thoughts pressed him to investigate further. 

Only after he’d moved the injured man into a chair to rest, did he do so, advancing towards a faintly lit hallway in which he could see the safe waiting at the end. The beeping grew closer, more aggravating, but he couldn’t tell what wall it was coming from, exactly...wait. 

Hold on. 

Backing up, he pressed his ear against the wall. It sounded the loudest coming from here, its beeps escalating alarmingly fast in a sound that he’d grown far too accustomed to hearing over the years. Even then, he wasn’t able to move away quick enough and found himself being blasted backwards as the walls exploded, the safe door barreling straight towards him. He dove and was able to catch it before it went any further, while heaving out several hoarse, ragged coughs, courtesy of the dust and debris billowing about.

As it cleared, he rolled the door to the side, letting it drop next to the teller stations. This provided him view to the individual responsible, a goggled man wearing a black helmet, emerging from the exploded safe with large bags full of cash in both hands. A small keyboard was attached to a robotic arm strapped to his vest, which resembled something close to what a member of a bomb squad would wear.

Oh no, not this guy. He’d just arrested him like two months ago, how long had he been out?

“Mad Bomber, I should’ve known.” He coughed again, clearing his throat. Fists curling up at his sides, he advanced towards the man, who’d stopped in his tracks at the sight of him. “And here I was thinking you’d stay in jail this time.”

Mad Bomber’s face remained still and placid, one of the bags dropping with a _thud_ as he reached up to type something into his keyboard.

 _“Delusional of you to get your hopes up, Captain.”_ An automated voice chirped back at Phoenix. He repressed the urge to roll his eyes, and kept his focus leveled, continuing to advance closer. _“Those cells couldn’t hold me if they wanted to, I have friends in many places who are more than willing to assist me.”_

“So do I. They’re called the police, and they’re actually right next door if you wanted to pay a visit to them--”

“With my help!”

He both winced and jolted in surprise at the voice floating in from behind him, turning to see Dahlia Hawthorne as she--flew? She was _flying_ in from the window, was he seeing this right?!

Mad Bomber seemed poised to offer this question himself, but before he could even manage to type a full sentence was knocked square in the face by Dahlia as she soared into him, causing him to drop the other bag and fall to the floor. He tried to sit up, but she thwarted his attempt with a stomp of her boot, pinning him down and in the process, breaking the small keyboard in half. 

“And that’s how you do an entrance.” She whipped her head towards the aggravated Phoenix, both hands on her hip and a smirk on her lips “I’d like to see you top that.”

“What are you _doing_ here, Ms. Hawthorne?”

“Oh, I just happened to be flying by.” Indignantly flipping her hair over her shoulder, she moved her foot back from Mad Bomber, pressing down a switch attached to her boots. “Surveying if you will, like any regular Super would do on nights like this--

“And as I’ve made clear to you, you’re not any regular Super. You’re not a Super at all.” Brushing past her, he grabbed a hold of Mad Bomber by his vest, ending his second effort to get up. “You’re putting yourself in danger just by being here, you need to go. Now.”

Her smirk faded, replaced by the same glare he’d seen earlier when she’d tried to prevent him from leaving earlier.

“Hmph. You still don’t get it, do you?” Her smirk faded, replaced by the same glare he’d seen earlier when she’d tried to prevent him from leaving earlier. “After our encounter earlier, I thought I’d give you another hour...clearly I can see it did no good. Well, I suppose I can always try again tomorrow--”

“No, no you won’t!” Lifting the criminal to his feet, Phoenix moved to exit the hall, making his way back to one of the desks that hadn’t been blown over in the explosion. There was bound to be something in the desks he could use to bind his hands, maybe rubber bands? “It doesn’t matter how long you give me, whether it's another hour or another month--my answer is gonna be the same. You’re a civilian, I’m a Super, you’re not meant to be here.”

“What a pity it is to hear you say that, I would’ve thought you’d be from all the others.” She stepped out in front of him, blocking him from the desk. “You always think we’re in danger, you think we’re all inferior to you, all because we don’t have powers that we’re somehow helpless?”

“Wha--no! I never said that--”

“Well, rest-assured that I am not helpless, Captain! I’m far from it, in fact,” As she gestured down to her boots, Phoenix could now see the insane amount of wires and switches attached to them. “I made these, all on my own. And I can make more things like it, now can you imagine the partnership that could emerge between us, the benefits that would reap? With my smarts and your strength, we’d be sure to put an end to every and all crime plaguing this city--and the recognition we’d get for it, just think--”

“Ms. Hawth--”

“--all I’m asking for is one chance, it's as simple as that, and you’re going to give it to me.” Damn, how did anyone hold a conversation with this girl and get a word in edgewise, now he was beginning to realize why no one had ever been able to say no before. “ Now, I’m going to go and fetch the police, you’ll wait here until I get back. Capiche?”

“I really don’t have the time for this--”

“Oh please, it won’t take long.” She chirped, clicking the switches back on her boots. “I’ll only be a second, keep your tights on.”

Hands full, he was only able to watch as she spun on her heels, sprinting towards the giant hole in the windows he hadn’t noticed was there until now. 

“She’ll never make it.”

His eyes widened at the unfamiliar voice, and he glanced at Mad Bomber, whose mouth was tugged upwards, and smugly. He didn’t have to ask what he meant, though he was about to--his question was answered by that same beeping as before, beeping, blinking red flashes swinging from Dahlia’s cape as he looked back over towards her.

_Shit. Shit shit shit--_

He didn’t waste the time to call after her, as she was already beginning her ascent and wouldn’t have heard him over the roar coming from her boots. Leaving all thought of Mad Bomber and the injured man behind, Phoenix dove out the window after her, hand scrambling and seizing onto her cape before gravity decided to pin him down. Heart hammering in his chest, he fought to maintain a hold on the fabric, the rest of his body flailing helplessly behind him. Nevermind, nevermind he took it all back, he was fine with not flying. This sucked, this was terrifying--

There were shouts of protest, kicks to his face as he struggled to free the snagged bomb. The beeping grew quicker, the flashes more rapid before it finally came loose. 

And so did Phoenix.

The bomb clutched in his hand, he yelled out as he fell from Dahlia, plummeting further and further from the night sky and back into the city. The next seconds were a blur--there was an impact, a brief pain in his head as he smacked into something hard. Something hard, and cold, with gravel underneath it. 

A train track. He was on a train track, realized this as he sat up in a daze, surveying his surroundings. Could hear the train coming in the distance, could hear the beeping...the beeping. Fuck, where was the bomb, he’d just been holding it! Had it flown out of his hand when he’d hit the tracks--that was a possibility, yes, but _where_ had it flown was the question? It hadn’t exploded yet, there was still time--he could take it, crush it and all would be well--

A tiny flash of red caught his attention as he grabbed hold of the railing, pulling himself back up. There, there it was, it was close. Just a few steps and he’d have this taken care of--

_BANG._

Phoenix fell back to the ground, temporarily blinded as he shielded his eyes from the debris flying his way. It cleared in enough time for him to see the train advancing from afar, and to see the sudden gap now left by the explosion. A gap that, once the train hit it, would send them crashing into the ground, no doubt causing yet another explosion that would kill half the passengers on it. 

This was not good. This was very not good.

Doing the only thing he could think of, he got back up, took a few steps back before making a running leap forward onto the other half of the tracks. Running as fast as his legs could carry him, he stopped at what he reasoned was a fair enough length, readying his stance. Legs apart, arms outstretched, and head turned, eyes squinting as the train’s bright light came closer and closer.

Then they collided.

The train rammed straight into him, pushing him back, feet skidding, tearing up the tracks as it went. He grunted, keeping a firm hold as best he could. A creek, a groan, as the first car slipped somewhat through the gap, it and Phoenix hanging there precariously as the lights blinked several times, ultimately fizzling out. 

* * *

The next minutes following the train accident were an entire blur. Phoenix couldn’t remember much from when the authorities had shown up to the time he was back on his own feet. The next thing he knew, he was talking to the corresponding officers who’d arrived alongside the plethora of fire engines and ambulances. It’d been no thanks to Dahlia, as though despite her insistence in going to find help, hadn’t arrived until after the fact, and with no one else in tow.

She’d tried again to throw her pitch to Phoenix, complaining how she hadn’t been able to find “one stinking officer” who was willing to help her out and he should give her another chance, that it was the least he owed her. But as far as he’d seen it, he didn’t owe her anything except the fact she’d inadvertently aided in letting a known felon get away, so once more he’d been forced to decline--that, and inform the police of her interference with his hero work, something that any sane person in this city would know was against the law.

That was the last he’d seen of her, being escorted off to a police car while yelling a whole string of words he didn’t care to repeat. Harsh as it was to say, he was relieved she was gone--a similar relief having washed over him when he’d abandoned their conversation at the convention. Needless to say there was something incredibly off putting about her temperament, so he was more than glad to be rid of it.

Of course, that gladness had evaporated as soon as he’d realized what time it was. 

In the midst of discussing a plan with some officers to apprehend Mad Bomber, he’d casually glanced at his watch to find that it was already five minutes past his reserved time and had had to awkwardly excuse himself from the conversation, running off to find where he’d last parked the Indestructobile.

He wasted no time once he’d found it, swiftly typing out the address of the restaurant into the gps and shifting the vehicle into the fastest speed possible, as well as the autopilot seeing that he didn’t exactly trust himself to drive that fast. Five minutes was fine, he could afford to be five minutes late, that was forgivable versus an hour. The only way he’d risk an hour was if he ran into traffic...that being precisely what ended up happening, in spite of everything he’d done to avoid it.

Because of this setback, five minutes became fifteen, and by the time he’d finally arrived at the restaurant it was nearly eight-twenty. 

The Indestructobile shifted back into its former model before he pulled into the first available parking space he’d spotted, charcoal suit and coat now back in place of his super suit as he opened the door and stepped out. Taking a quick minute to give himself a once over in the side mirrors, Phoenix dusted out any stray pieces of stone or dirt from his hair, smoothing any jagged strands back into place so that he didn’t look completely disheveled. He’d put in a lot of effort to look halfway presentable tonight after all, and he’d prefer for it not to be a wasted one.

He only hoped that his other efforts wouldn’t be wasted, either.

Digging around his coat pocket long enough to find his car keys, he pressed the button to lock it, the car giving a resounding _honk_ behind him as he made his way up to the entrance. It’s doors automatically popped open, saving him the trouble of having to manually open them himself--despite his being prepared to--and he entered, immediately making his way to the host’s table where a bored-looking young woman sat all by herself, absent-mindedly twiddling a pen between her fingers.

She perked up as he approached, however, a smile over-taking her previously dour expression. No doubt something she’d had to practice in this kind of profession, he recognized it all too well from the few retail jobs he’d had to work during his first few semesters of college. Those were not jobs he’d willingly return to if given the option, that was for sure.

“Good evening, sir.” God, even her customer service sounded convincing. He hated to think of how long she must’ve been working here if it were that believable, a considerable time probably given the very noticeable dark bags under her eyes. “Table for one?”

“ I uh…no, two actually.” Phoenix flicked another small pebble from his hair, crushing it between his fingers before the hostess could notice. “I have a reservation, under Wright.”

He stood waiting, fingers awkwardly fiddling around with the ring box in his pocket while she typed something into the tablet she’d picked up. 

“Let me just see here...the seven-forty-five reservation, correct?” 

“That’s the one.”

An affirming _ding_ sounded and she nodded, setting the tablet back in its place.

“Very well Mr. Wright, if you’ll just follow me.” 

She retrieved a singular menu as she stepped away from the stand, Phoenix proceeding to almost stumble down a small but unexpected flight of stairs while following her across to a booth table on the other side of the room. 

It was admittedly a longer walk than he’d expected it to be, though at the same time, this entire place was also much bigger and fancier than he’d expected. The pictures he’d seen online hadn’t quite done it justice; the whole dining area felt like something out of a heist movie, what with its pristine diamond chandeliers, plethora of gigantic plants in every corner and the oversized aquarium tank in the center, several different sorts of fish happily swimming about inside of it. 

He hadn’t meant to stare as much as he had, he was probably giving his status away just by doing so. Admittedly, this wasn’t what he was used to; hell, Chili’s was as fancy as he usually got whenever he could afford it. 

Under no circumstances would he have ever considered coming to a place like this to eat, if it weren’t for one very precise reason…

Well, two reasons, really. 

The first being that a night like this required some thought put into it, the second was not-so surprisingly already seated. Gray eyes rested behind a pair of reading glasses, concentrated on the phone in his hand as he scrolled through it, the other hand resting on the table next to a half-empty glass of ice water. Hair impeccably combed and groomed, not a strand out of place, and perfectly complimenting the maroon suit jacket he was wearing. 

A pleasantly warm ripple curled around in Phoenix’s stomach at the sight, and he once again found himself nearly stumbling over something--a chair this time--the noise having alerted the seated individual into looking up from his phone. Brows raised in familiar amusement, and he sat the phone down, arms crossing as Phoenix approached with the hostess. She placed his menu on the table before sauntering away, leaving the two of them to lock eyes with one another.

Just as they’d had on the roof. Only it felt longer and quieter this time, alongside an entirely different level of intense silence. 

“Miles. Hi.”

“Phoenix.” He nodded curtly, picking his glass up. “Glad to see you could make it.”

Phoenix grimaced, moving to take his seat on the adjacent side. 

“Yeah...about that, I’m really sorry okay, I swear I have an explanation--”

“Do you now? And does this explanation have anything to do with the gravel in your hair?”

He gasped as Miles took a long sip from his glass, stopped halfway of shrugging his coat off and reached up to shake the mentioned (and for that matter, apparently missed) offenders from his head, careful not to get any of it on the table. 

“It might have a little do with it, maybe.” Dusting his hands off, he resumed taking his coat off, draping it behind him. “Alright, slight lie. It’s got a lot to do with it, but that doesn’t matter right now. I got here in one piece, didn’t I?”

“For once, I suppose.” Miles mused, setting his glass back down. “After what you said earlier though, I’d say that’s a bit of surprise.”

“What I said--”

“On the rooftop, before I left. Asking me if I wasn’t busy later when you knew we were meeting for dinner, I mean really.” Unfolding his menu, he began a precise scan of its contents. “I only played along because I thought it was banter, I didn’t think you’d actually forgotten.”

“It _was_ banter.” Phoenix insisted as a tinge of red flashed across his face. He opened his own menu. “What did you want me to do, talk about our date in front of the robber?”

“Why not, he was unconscious. I fail to see how that would’ve affected anything.”

“Yeah but--I mean, you never know who else might’ve been listening. That was an entire apartment building after all, someone could’ve just as easily have heard...us…”

Phoenix’s voice trailed off as he began to garner a closer look at the items on the menu, more importantly, the prices listed underneath each. Fifty dollars for a steak, ten dollars for a salad, eighteen dollars for spaghetti and meatballs. Oh. _Oh_ , now he remembered why he’d not wanted to buy a ring. 

His sudden silence alerted Miles, who lowered his menu enough to look over at him, face creasing somewhat. 

“Something the matter?”

“This...uh, these...prices…” He coughed, eyes flicking up and down the page as his brain struggled to comprehend the continuing onslaught of extravagant prices. “Nothing, I’m just...trying to figure out who would willingly pay sixty-five dollars for a filet cut is all...seems a bit ridiculous to me. I could get two steaks for that much at like, Outback or literally any other restaurant…”

“Hm, that would almost be a fair point if you weren’t the one who’d insisted on coming here.” 

“Hey, I didn’t insist. You were the one who kept talking about coming here eventually, I just thought it’d be a nice change of pace from everything else--”

“And it is, don’t think it’s not.” Folding his menu back over, Miles removed his glasses and placed them back in his jacket pocket, sighing. “Really, I’m grateful that you’re making the effort, especially after the last time we ate out at one of these places. I just wish you didn’t feel like you _have_ to, not when it’s very likely a financial inconvenience for you.”

“An inconvenience? Huh, it’s not--” Phoenix started to say, chuckling somewhat, but stopped himself upon realizing he had nothing to back that statement up with. He would’ve, had he not taken the money he’d saved for the whole month and splurged on an entirely new ring, and that wasn’t even mentioning how much his rent and phone bills drained from him. 

“Okay, so maybe it is a _bit_ of an inconvenience, I’ll admit. But it’s not from a lack of trying this time, I promise. I just had...a lot of unexpected expenses this month, is all.”

Alright, that last statement came out a lot less convincing than he’d intended it to. It might’ve fooled anyone else had they not been as observant as Miles, who was currently giving him a doubtfully curious once-over from his side of the table. He didn’t get the chance to say anything of it, however, as a waitress had arrived at the table to take their orders--Phoenix ordering one of the cheapest steak meals he could find on the menu, while Miles requested a salmon fillet, alongside a bottle of their “finest wine” for the two to share.

The mental calculator in Phoenix’s head was practically breaking apart trying to imagine how much this was going to cost altogether, and now he was beginning to feel immense regret for buying the ring as he had. Not that he could just blame that, he’d thought that for once, he’d succeed in putting aside enough money for a special occasion such as this, but clearly those plans had gone out the window the minute he’d seen that ring.

Darn him and his impulses. The one time he’d needed his boyfriend around to tell him no, he couldn’t be there...for obvious reasons. 

“--and if you could, put it all on one check please. Thank you.” 

The mental calculator blinked from existence at Miles’ words, and he stared across at him, blinking. Miles met his expression with an inquisitive look.

“Oh, no. Don’t get the wrong idea,” he explained. “This meal’s entirely on me, don’t fret over it.”

“But I--huh--are you sure? I mean, coming here was technically my idea so--”

“My idea first when you think about it, I was the one to mention it after all.” Just as soon as she’d left, the waitress returned, pushing a cart in front of her. Two glasses and a small bucket sat atop, a wine bottle sat cozily amongst the crushed ice inside of it. “Anyhow, it’s the least I can do to thank you.” 

“Thank me?” 

“Yes, of course.” The waitress placed both glasses on the table, followed by the wine bottle before pushing the cart back towards the kitchen. Miles picked the bottle up before Phoenix could, attempting to twist the cork free. “You were the one who went through all the troubles of making a reservation, after all. With my schedule being as busy as it is with internships and all, I would’ve never found the time to do it myself.”

A _pop_ and the cork fell to the table, Miles moving to fill his glass.

“That and I _suppose_ I wouldn’t have caught up to the tour bus thief without your help.” Glass now full, he moved onto Phoenix’s, handing it over to him once he’d finished. “I’m merely making good on what I owe you.”

“Oh, so that’s it then?” Phoenix snickered as he took the glass, eyeing the dark liquid inside his glass as he swished it around. “And here I was thinking you were just feeling charitable, maybe I was giving you too much credit.”

“Well, we could always split the check if you really wanted--”

“Nope, no way, it's too late for that offer. Besides, you’d just end up owing me again.”

A small but amused smile crossed Miles’ features as he picked his glass up.

“A fair point, I suppose.” He held the glass up, towards Phoenix’s own, shaking his head. “Alright then, Mr. Wright, have it your way. But I should thank you not to question my generosity in the near future.”

“Heh, I’ll try to control myself.” 

_Clink._

* * *

The cold night air nipped and bit at Phoenix’s cheeks as he walked down the street with Miles’, hand in hand. 

Despite it being early November, there was already an overabundance of holiday lights strewn up about town, twinkling brightly overhead and from behind varying shop windows with their already-insane amount of decorations on display. Cheerful Christmas tunes drifted out from the different speakers set up around the area, making the scene feel like something out of one of those cheesy Hallmark movies Maya would often goad him into watching just so she’d have someone else to make fun of them with.

He wasn’t going to complain though. Everything felt so cozy and peaceful like this, and he’d gladly take it after all the trouble he’d gone through to get to this point in the day. 

Aside from his showing up late, the rest of the dinner had gone by perfectly and without mistake. 

Between bites of food and sips of wine, he and Miles exchanged conversation about how their days had gone, what the other had been up to besides their obvious hero work--which itself was discussed as discreetly as possible, given their not being the only ones in the room, they weren’t at liberty to freely talk about it less they risk someone overhearing them. 

So they’d discussed what disguised bits and pieces they could, Phoenix wisely deciding to leave out the part where he’d been hit by a train. They were supposed to be having a nice evening, the last thing he wanted was to bring up anything that might make Miles have an aneurysm. Even with their sharing this profession, he seemed more concerned for Phoenix than himself most of the time, and had repeatedly chided him for his impulsiveness, the way he planned things so spontaneously. 

Arguing that being spontaneous and impulsive were needed qualities in being a Super was pointless, however, as Phoenix had tried and failed to do so in the past already, numerous times at that. There was no point to it, really, not when he was arguing with someone who was interning at a law office, and all Phoenix had to show for himself was a Bachelor’s in Art. With such differing degrees, it was a wonder they’d even met at all; probably never would have if Phoenix hadn’t decided to take the same German class as his foreign language requirement. He remembered it so well, Miles seated in front of him, always irrationally annoying him with his impeccable ability to take notes that weren’t directly from the powerpoint slides. 

At least, that was what he’d told his parents, and anyone who didn’t know about his Super work. If he were being perfectly truthful, they’d already met before that point, only it’d been under circumstances much different than a regular old college class. It’d been in this very part of the city actually, this very shopping section around this same month and day. There’d been a holiday charity concert in the center, lots of people in attendance--the opportune time for a villain to strike. 

Which they had, only to Phoenix’s great surprise he hadn’t been the only Super who’d emerged from the crowd to deal with them. To this day, he still wasn’t sure how they’d managed to save anyone with how much headbutting and disagreement had occurred--disagreements that had apparently gained the attention of a reporter who’d been there to witness the incident occur. 

The media had dubbed them rivals after that, even if that’d not ended up the case in their normal lives, otherwise they wouldn’t be here now. Regardless, this place had always remained a special fixture in Phoenix’s memory, and was why he’d been adamant about going to that restaurant, given how close it was in proximity. He couldn’t think of a better place to propose, even if it was currently very freezing and his nose felt close to icing over. 

He didn’t think he could blame his shivering on the cold, though. That was entirely the fault of his nerves, what with the anticipated moment growing closer and closer. He was seeing Lotta Hart’s article in front of his eyes again, the words swimming around and taunting him cruelly enough to cause an upheaval of his meal. Part of him had wanted to ask Miles about it at dinner, just out of sheer curiosity, had waited for him to eventually talk about it himself, but that never happened. 

It wouldn’t have calmed him down, he knew that, but it was also giving him greater anxiety that it hadn’t been brought up. That he didn’t know for sure if Miles had read it, or if he had any idea that Phoenix had read it...it wasn’t helping things. 

“...you know, not that I don’t enjoy aimlessly walking around like this but,” Miles’ voice drew him out from his thoughts, as the two crossed over the street. “I still wish you’d given me some idea of where you’re taking me, I’ve yet to really figure it out.” 

“Oh, heh. That’s surprising,” Phoenix chuckled, trying to disguise the anxiousness in his voice. Not the easiest task imaginable, but maybe he could blame that on the cold if he were asked about it. “You’re literally one of the most observant people I’ve ever met, I would’ve thought you’d at least be making a guess by now.”

“And what sort of guess could I make, when all I’ve observed thus far are these inane decorations?” Huffing, Miles nodded at one of the store displays they were coming up on. One of the more elaborate ones they’d seen so far, complete with a tiny village and a train set decked out on the glittering white cotton standing in as snow. “Really, we’re barely past October, this is ridiculous. Does no one in this city have any patience, anymore?”

“Apparently not. Still though, you gotta admit it all looks kinda nice.”

They passed another window, this one displaying several mechanical elves hard at work in a cardboard version of Santa’s workshop. Miles hummed indifferently. 

“Mm, if you say so. Even then, that hardly helps me figure out where we’re going.”

“You’ll see, we’re almost there anyways.” Crossing another street, the two walked on until coming upon the main center, where a gigantic, beautifully decorated Christmas tree sat all aglow, surrounded by several equally-as-large fake presents that were no doubt made out of styrofoam or something like it. Miles shot Phoenix an understandably quizzical expression as they came to a stop in front of it. 

“This...this is it? Phoenix, tell me we did not just walk all the way over here just so we could see this tree--”

“Not the tree, no, I promise it’s nothing like that.” He shook his head. “Look around, you mean you don’t recognize this place?”

“I don’t think I--hm. Wait just a minute…”

Miles squinted, looking past Phoenix and around the area in close inspection. Something, recognition perhaps, flashed over his eyes.

“The concert...this is where they had that concert a few years back, wasn’t it? The one we--”

“Met at, yeah. And were subsequently proclaimed rivals.” Phoenix chuckled again, scratching the nape of his neck as he glanced upwards at the tree. “You know, it’s kinda funny when I look back on it, that was literally the first time we’d ever been acquainted and suddenly the public immediately decided we hated each other.”

“Ah, but we did. For quite a while actually.”

“If you call a few months a while. Then you showed up in my German class, and I made the mistake of getting to know you.”

“If that’s _your_ mistake, then mine was agreeing to date you.”

He glanced down and over at Miles, to see a small smile on his face, eyes lit up. Phoenix returned the smile, feeling a slight flush of heat at the tips of his ears, which before now had been freezing. Both their gazes went back to the tree, Miles exhaling softly, breath shuddering slightly. 

“..we’ve come so far since then, haven’t we?” 

“Yeah...yeah, we have…” 

Phoenix felt himself tense, slipping his free hand into his coat pocket where the ring box resided, fingers tautly curling around it. His heart was pounding in his ears, words from the article back in his vision for only a minute, before vanishing just as quick, replaced by what Maya had said earlier that day-- _”You’re Captain Indestructible, you’ve faced worse things than a marriage proposal”_. 

And she was right. Considering that he’d managed to not only take down fleeing bank robbers, but subdue a tour bus robber, save a falling man and an entire train full of people all within the same day, this shouldn’t be that difficult for him...but it was, oh God it was. Not doing so was killing him, but so was this silence, the stillness. It only left room for doubt to creep back in, and he couldn’t let it, not when he’d made this far.

To hell with this. It was now or never, and he’d prefer the former over the latter.

Before he knew what he was doing, he’d released Miles’ hand, stepping back. He let out a confused gasp, looking over at him in alarm as Phoenix dropped to one knee, removing the ring box from his coat. 

“Phoenix--what is this--”

“Exactly what it looks like.” Inhaling sharply, he clutched the box in both hands, not opening it just yet. “God, I love you, Miles. I love you so goddamn much, and like you said, we’ve come so far...that..uh...huh, you know, in hindsight I realize I probably should’ve had a whole speech prepared for this, but it kind of slipped my mind, so I’m just going to say this outright…”

Fingers trembling, Phoenix cracked open the box to reveal the ring inside, Miles’ eyes widening at the sight. 

“Miles Edgeworth, will you marry me?”

A pause. No response, nothing but music from the speakers passing between them. Phoenix’s heart began pounding even louder, and he could feel the cold from the ground seeping through his pants leg, but still, he didn’t move, and neither did Miles. Not for an entire minute.

This had been a mistake, hadn’t it. 

He could already sense the guilt beginning to worm its way through him, the embarrassment, but he had to inwardly convince himself it was too soon for that. He hadn’t received an answer yet, not a direct no, not a yes--fuck, he’d take a maybe at this rate. Anything so that he’d have an answer.

“So, you weren’t just bluffing in that interview then…”

Not an answer, but words. Miles was speaking, his words causing Phoenix’s heart to skip a beat.

“Wha...what--bluffing? Interview? Oh, the Hart article--so, you did read it then?”

“I did, although I’ll admit I never planned on it at first but…” Tersely, Miles grabbed at his arm, biting at his lower lip. “I kept thinking back to something she’d asked me, something strange, and I had to see for myself if there’d be any explanation for it somewhere...much as I should’ve suspected it, I didn’t think it’d be in any relation to you.”

“You mean--”

“The part about getting married and starting a family, yes.”

“Oh…”

Another pause. Phoenix swallowed hard, lowering the ring box, and began to stand back up. 

“Miles, I’m sorry I--I didn’t think she would bring that up around you--I meant to ask you about it during dinner but I didn’t want--”

“No, no. Don’t apologize, you said it yourself--you had no way of knowing.” Miles released his arm, having apparently been gripping it tight enough to leave visible imprints on his sleeve. “Anyhow, I’m more sorry that I actually fell for it. Wouldn’t be the first time a journalist’s pitted me against one of your statements, had I known it was actually you who’d said that then…”

He gestured vaguely, shaking his head. Phoenix blinked.

“You...wouldn’t have said what you said?” 

“I--yes--well no, I doubt my answer would’ve changed, but I wouldn’t--didn’t mean any of it-” Face flushing, he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Please Phoenix, don’t misunderstand me--I only said what I did because that’s the answer she wanted to hear, that’s the answer they always want to hear. I don’t have as cozy a reputation as you do, people think of me in a more...refined and reclusive manner compared to you. What do you think they’d say to the idea that I was suddenly open to the idea of settling down?”

“Honestly? They’d probably laugh.”

“Precisely. Besides, I don’t exactly feel at ease discussing vague matters of my personal life with just anyone, call it paranoia if you will…” His tone dropped, suddenly sounding more whispery than overtly audible. 

“It’s just, we always run the risk of being exposed, regardless of what we say or do. Now imagine if someone who...maybe had a grudge against me somehow learned who I was, who I associate with--and they learned that by reading the article. So of course I had to choose my words to be negative. I couldn’t risk…”

He pressed his lips together and turned his head aside in a matter that made Phoenix’s chest ache. 

“Well ah, you know what I mean.”

“Miles…” 

Phoenix gathered the box back into one hand, using the other to gently turn his boyfriend’s face back towards him. He lingered, thumb caressing gentle circles into his cheekbone. “Look at me, I’m going to be fine, okay? I’ve told you so many times already…if anyone ever did find out, regardless on if it was over something you said or not, I think I’d be more than capable of taking care of myself.”

“Hmph...says the man who exists purely off of frozen meals and takeout.” A quietly bitter laugh from Miles, and he reached up, slipping his fingers around Phoenix’s remaining hand. “Don’t think I’m gonna let that kind of thing slide when we’re married, I fully expect you to cook actual food at least twice per week.”

“Excuse me, but my cooking’s got nothing to do with how I take care of myself! I can literally punch a door down--” 

Phoenix went quiet, hand slipping from Miles’ face as the man’s previous words just now began to dawn on him. Any thoughts of defending his poor cooking skills flew out the window, replaced by an overwhelming repetition of mental exclamation points in bold font as he sputtered, struggling to find words.

“Wait--hold on, wait, you said _when_ we get married, does mean that--”

“That I accept? Of course.” Smiling. Miles was smiling, that was good, wasn’t it? It was always good when he smiled, always nice to look at too even if it made Phoenix’s legs turn to jello. “But only on one condition--”

“Anything! You name it and I’ll do it--”

“Patience, Phoenix, let me finish.” He sounded stern, but the smile remained. “And listen to me carefully when I say this, because I will not repeat myself. I want you to promise to be something more than Captain Indestructible--yes, you may break doors down and lift entire buses on your own, but that’s not what I want from you as a husband. I want more than that...you know what I mean, don’t you?”

“I do. Absolutely.” Phoenix nodded. “And I can definitely manage that, no problem. Just as long as you promise me the same thing--be more than Flexuous. Not saying you can’t randomly show up and punch criminals who are about to shoot me, but…it’ll make us even, kind of.”

A laugh from Miles, deep and handsome as he went about removing one of his gloves, temporarily placing it under his arm. 

“That’s agreeable enough, I suppose.” Extending his hand, he waited while Phoenix took out the ring from the box, sliding it up the other’s ring finger. When he’d finished, he held it up in the faint light cast from the Christmas tree to inspect. He repressed a snort, shaking his head. 

“I’m taking it that this was one of your unexpected expenses this month.”

“Maybe. I was hoping it’d be a worthwhile expense, if anything.” Phoenix grinned, shrugging. “What do you think?”

“Hm…” Miles turned it to inspect further, then nodded affirmingly. 

“I think for once, yes. It was.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact, I started on this chapter immediately after finishing the first one because as we've discovered, Em has zero impulse control. That, and I'm actually low key a little proud of how its turning out so far, ngl. It's been ridiculously fun to write and I'm so looking forward to what I've got planned. 
> 
> Thank you all for reading, and as always leave kudos/comments if you enjoyed!


	3. Aftermath and Consequence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fifteen years have passed. Supers are no more, and now the heroes once known as Captain Indestructible and Flexuous must contend with their roles as ordinary, mundane citizens, dealing with both external and internal conflicts of varying degrees.

**_Excerpt taken from The Daily Tribune --_ **

**_“SO LONG SUPERS?”_ **

_By Nicole Swift_ _  
_ _Published May 15th, 2019_

_It started with one. In mid November of last year, a local citizen--whose name has been omitted from this report in respect of his privacy--shocked the nation with his decision to file a world class lawsuit against none other than that of famed superhero Captain Indestructible, for not only foiling his attempt at suicide, but also incurring a massive injury that reportedly left the man wheelchair-bound for a solid four months._

_“I didn’t want to be saved. I would’ve thought my jumping had made that more than clear,” The man told reporters. “All I wanted was a quick death, but what do I get instead? Surgery bills, therapy bills, pills to gulp down all so I can be pain free for a few hours. My daughter’s had to drop out of school just to take care of me, she’s had to put her life on hold, and all because some nosy goddamn Super couldn’t mind his own business!”_

_“It’s not like I intentionally set out to ruin the guy’s life, you’ve gotta believe me.” Indestructible reportedly stated to the court. “My back was turned, I heard a scream and looked around just in time to see the guy falling. Now what I was supposed to do--or even think, in that situation? Don’t say you wouldn’t have done the same!”_

_Initially, the court--and for that matter, the nation--were split on the matter. There were some who agreed with Indestructible’s statement, feeling that he shouldn’t be held responsible since he was only “doing his job”, while an overwhelming majority ended up siding with the victim, and the trial was ultimately ruled in his favor._

_And that was the end of it. Or so we thought, as two weeks later, Indestructible was back in court facing a joint lawsuit served by the numerous victims of a train accident inadvertently caused by the Super. Despite his insistence that he’d only been trying to prevent the train from crashing, the court once again saw fit to rule in favor of those injured. This coupled with the prior incident cost the government millions, and even now, they have not recovered from them._

_Though it isn’t entirely fair to put the blame of cost on Indestructible’s antics alone, considering the tidal wave of lawsuits that have followed. Many other individuals like him began to find themselves in the defendant’s chair, and time and time again, walked out with a guilty verdict hanging over their heads. What’s more, they had lost the support and admiration once given to them by the public as the numbers of those in opposition only began to increase more and more. Some citizens have even gone as far to stage protests, taking to the streets with the demands that Supers be declared illegal._

_“They’ve been getting off scot free for years,” One protestor commented. “And quite frankly, I say it's about time they owe up to it. I mean, all those destroyed buildings and wrecked cars, and for what? All to stop a few criminals? Let the police do that, that’s what they get paid for!”_

_As it currently stands, all Supers have been temporarily suspended from pursuing active hero work as a means of avoiding any more potential lawsuits, while government officials work towards a permanent solution. They have reassured civilians that “their worries have been heard” and that they are “very close” to making a final decision on the issue. As of right now, there is no official word on what this solution may be, though if recent polls are anything to go by, it seems there may be a bleak future in store for our heroes._

* * *

“Denied? What do you _mean_ by denied, I was under the impression I would be fully covered for this!”

Phoenix dropped the stamp back in its drawer, wincing at the high-pitched voice hollering at him from the other side of his desk. 

“I’m sorry about this, Ms. Oldbag, really.” Letting the door slide shut, he narrowly avoided it closing on his thumb and he crossed both hands atop one another, sighing blearily. “But if you’d just taken a moment to properly read the fine print, then you’d see that our liabilities are clearly stated on the fifth--”

“Why I never--the nerve, the absolute gall!” More piercing hysterics from his client cut off his words, and one tired glance her way saw that she was seething, practically boiling over right where she was sitting. “Denying the claim of a poor old woman, I can’t believe it. I’ll have you know that I’m paying a good amount of money for this insurance each year, a good _large_ amount! What’s the use in having it if you won’t let me put it to use?”

“Again, ma’am, if you’d just read over the liabilities in the first place--” He nudged the forms with his elbow, shoving them towards her. This only proved to be an ignored effort, as the old woman showed no signs of slowing her tirade anytime soon. She continued to ramble on, spewing long-winded words and swears for the next two minutes all while Phoenix’s will to listen was beginning to slowly drain from him. 

He wished he could say he was used to these kinds of things by now, especially after having been in this job for so long. But even with that being the fact, he wasn’t. If you’d asked him fifteen years ago if this was what he’d envisioned himself doing with his life, he’d have most definitely said no. Not by a long mile had he ever seen himself stuck working in a place like this, not after the nightmarish retail jobs he’d had to work during his college years. 

That’d not been in their plans. Not his, not Miles’. 

Oh, how they’d had so many back then, so many ideas, wants and dreams that they wanted and planned for. Freshly graduated, newly engaged, and at the height of their fame as Supers, it’d seemed like the world was at their feets, as if nothing could possibly go wrong. And for a while, nothing had. They’d had the luxury to go about their lives, began their plans for their wedding, their honeymoon, and just their overall future together. 

Everything had been decided down to a T, carefully deliberated and thought upon. They’d be married following the conclusion of Miles’ internship at the law office, and upon returning from their honeymoon would move into their dream home--one completely furnished with a large backyard, with an equally as large pool, perfect for a few kids, maybe a dog or two. There’d be lots of bedrooms, a spacious living room with the comfiest furniture imaginable. And to top it all off, they’d each have a home office. One for Miles and the work he might bring home, and the other for Phoenix and his freelance work. 

He would be the one to stay home, they’d decided. 

When they eventually would decide to start their family, he’d be the ones to pack their lunches, to pick them up from school while Miles worked at whatever prestigious law firm he predicted would hire him. He’d be the one to look after things in the house primarily, in-between working random commissions--and just as he’d promised, he would take turns cooking the meals twice per week. And all the while, they’d do this while also juggling their lives as Supers, doing lowkey work just to make sure the city was still well-looked after. 

Precisely planned, thought out exactly. It’d all sounded so perfect, yet too good to be true. 

And that was exactly what it’d ended up being.

The only thing that’d really come to pass was their taking turns to cook meals, although most of the time this usually involved Phoenix bringing home takeout from the restaurant of choice that night. They had a home, but not their dream home with the giant backyard and pool, hell they’d barely had enough space to fit in a swingset and slide. Miles didn’t work at a law firm, and was the one packing the lunches, the one picking their kids up from school most days while Phoenix was stuck in this cubicle, his butt glued to an uncomfortable swivel chair from nine to five.

No, this was definitely not what he’d envisioned back then, not what he’d planned at all. 

But of course, he figured that that was the risk that had to be taken with plans, the fact that they might unravel at a moment’s notice without much warning...which they had. They had, not just his, not just Miles’, but nearly every other Super’s in existence as well. 

None of them could have predicted what had happened, not even Maya much as she jested about doing so. The whole experience had been akin to a bad dream, one that Phoenix could remember wishing throughout so many points of it that it was nothing but a bad dream and he’d wake up the next morning, that everything would go back to the way it was. That government and courts would agree that the public was overreacting, that the lawsuits would settle, the temporary ban would lift and he and everyone else could get back to resuming regular hero work. 

But they hadn’t. 

And now he was stuck working in the office from hell, getting the life sucked out of him on a day to day basis until he could finally go home. He supposed if anything he should be grateful he even had a job, low paying and mind numbing as it was, but these days it just didn’t feel as if it were worth it anymore. 

Out all of the jobs he’d ever worked in his life, this one was undoubtedly the worst of them all. 

It was a low profile one, and the only place a former Super like himself could think to work without drawing much attention to themselves. He tried not to, much as he held the urge to sucker punch his desk in half sometimes-- either due to bothersome clients such as Ms. Oldbag, or the almost-daily irritation provided by his boss. The most he could get away with was crushing a styrofoam cup of coffee in his hands, nobody would bat an eye at that for obvious reasons. As of right now, though, that wasn’t an option seeing as he’d finally decided to put to use the _“World’s Okayest Dad”_ mug he’d gotten for Father’s Day and had been drinking out of that for most of the day. 

Somehow, he highly doubted that even breaking _that_ in half would cause Ms. Oldbag to cease her rambling.

“--and you can take your liabilities and stick ‘em for all I care!” Ah. Speak of the devil, she still didn’t seem to be finished. Phoenix didn’t know how long she’d been talking given that he’d just zoned out for the past several minutes, but he also couldn’t bring himself to care or wonder about what he’d missed. 

“If you think for one minute that I’m gonna take this sitting down then you’ve got another thing coming, oh yes indeedy!” He blinked, flinching as she yanked the form out from where he hadn’t realized it was still stuck under his elbow. “I’m going to fight this, I’ll fight it with everything I’ve got left! Mark my words, sonny, you haven’t seen the last of me!”

 _“Huh, what a shame. I was beginning to hope otherwise.”_ Was what Phoenix wanted so very badly to say, but all he could manage were a few weak stammers of words that were incorehable to even him. Not that it would’ve helped any, as Ms. Oldbag had already gotten up and stormed out of the cubicle, continuing her exhausting diatribe until it was mercifully no longer audible. The only things he could hear now were the constantly ringing phones and the quietly monotone chatter of his coworkers, things that were normally a nuisance but as of this moment, were a blessing compared to what his ears had just had to endure.

Slumping back in his seat, he let out a lengthy sigh and massaged his temples, sparing a momentary glance at the time on his computer. Two fifty-three. So close to three. So close to the two more hours until five, two more until he could be freed from all of this. Not that being at home was in any way relaxing as it used to be, but at least there he didn’t have to deal with--

_Brrring._

\--things like that, disturbing him from whatever moment’s peace he could get. 

The phone was ringing. _His_ phone, at _his_ desk, much as he inwardly hoped it was coming from the cubicle next to him. Phoenix could feel a heavy urge to groan come over him but pressed it back, knowing how pointless it was to do so. Nothing helpful would come of it, hell he doubted that even that would make him feel better at this point. 

So he didn’t. Only dropped his hand from his face and pressed his lips together, stayed slumped back in his chair, woefully staring back at the device vibrating in its handset. He didn’t want to answer it, he so very much didn’t want to. Not when he’d just finished dealing with a client, the last thing he wanted was to spend the next few minutes listening to someone else’s terrible sob story of how their house had caught fire or whatnot, just for him to deny their claim because of some tiny little fault within the policy. 

Contrary to the belief of Ms. Oldbag and almost every other disgruntled client he’d spoken to in the past, it wasn’t something he particularly enjoyed doing. But then, he wasn’t in this job for the enjoyment of it, was he? No, he was only here because he had a family to support, something he was constantly reminded of thanks to the faces smiling back at him from the framed picture placed on his desk.

Without them, he doubted he’d have much motivation to stay here. 

Wearily running his hand over his eyes, he cleared his throat, preparing to put on his best customer service voice and picked up the phone, pressing the button to accept the call. 

“Thank you for calling Paysurance, this is Phoenix Wright speaking. How may I be of assistance--”

“Five unanswered texts, three missed calls.” He stopped speaking, abruptly cut off by the familiar voice speaking to him. “And at last, he finally responds. Remind me to just go ahead and bypass your cell phone the next time I need to get ahold of you.”

Phoenix blinked in surprise, sitting up somewhat in his chair which let off a slight _creak_ as he did so. Of all the people he’d expected to be calling him today, his _husband_ had certainly not been one of them. On his own phone maybe, but the company phone? Highly unlikely. 

“Huh? Miles--”

“And before you say anything, yes. I’m well aware that this is the company phone and I’m likely holding up anyone else from reaching you,” The voice continued on, Phoenix’s ears picking up what sounded like water sloshing around in the background, something squeaking alongside it. “But it's not as if I had much of an option when I wasn’t otherwise reaching you. I trust there’s a good reason for that, yes?”

“Well actually, yeah. I don’t exactly have my cell on me right now--” He heard a scoff, and pulled his chair up further to the desk, resting his elbow on it. “Not for the reason you think, I swear. Payne just got tired of seeing it on my desk so he made me leave it with his secretary until my shift’s over.”

“...you’re not serious.”

“I wish I wasn’t.” Another splash sounded on the other end of the phone, followed by a delighted squeak. “Trying to insist I wasn’t even using it that much was like talking to a brick wall, which is to say--pointless. Uh, anyways…”

He craned his neck forward, inconspicuously peering outside his cubicle for any sign that a supervisor or--Heaven forbid, his boss might be walking by. So far, so good.

“--what’s going on with you? Everything okay over there?”

“I don’t know why you believe it wouldn’t be.” A _humph,_ more splashing and squeaking. “Perhaps I just wanted to call and see how your afternoon was going, I’m allowed to do that aren’t I?” 

“Hah, right. Five texts and three calls just for that?” Phoenix leaned forward and suppressed a low hiss, his lower back groaning in protest at the sudden movement. “Even you’re not that extravagant, Miles. Seriously, what’s really going on? Nothing’s broken again, I hope.”

There was a pause. Silence, save for the occasional splash and baby giggles. 

“Miles?”

More silence. And what might be a rubber duck squeaking, it was hard to tell. That was answer enough for Phoenix, and he pinched the bridge of his nose, biting back a groan.

“…something’s broken, isn’t it?”

“Nothing is broken, don’t just assume that’s why--”

“Kinda hard not to when half our appliances are falling apart.” Picking up his by now lukewarm mug of coffee, Phoenix finished off what little amount was left before setting it back down. “What was it this time, did the vacuum finally decide to expire on you?”

“Surprisingly no, it's still intact since I last used it.” There was a _pop,_ the splashing now replaced by the sound of water going down the drain. A loud squall of protest followed, as Miles let out a small huff. “No, I fear the laundry machine is our culprit this time. I can’t get it to drain, I’m suspecting it may be clogged.”

“Again? Didn’t we just have that fixed like...last week?”

“Yes. We did. Though at this rate, I doubt it’d be worth trying to repair it again. We have had it for a long time, after all.” A sigh, another squeak from the duck, which seemed to quell the squalling. “I’m thinking it may actually be high time we consider getting in a new one, or at least looking. I know of a few places that are conducting sales--”

“And unless those sales happen to be a hundred percent off everything, then you can forget about it.” Phoenix sighed. “Seriously, even with the discounts applied we’d still have to pay a crap ton to have someone come and install it. That’s just not something we can afford right now.”

“Well, what else do you suggest then? Because I’m not about to call a repairman again, considering how utterly pointless that would be.” There was a thud as something seemed to have hit the floor. Probably the rubber duck, considering the cry of alarm that came after it. 

“Then don’t, I’ll just--I don’t know, I’ll take a look at it myself or something--” He gave a second glance outside the cubicle, above it this time, and gasped slightly at the sight of his boss erratically emerging from his office, a fistful of papers clutched in his hand. “Listen, Miles, not that this conversation isn’t y’know...fun, but I’ve actually gotta go now. Do you think we could maybe finish discussing this at a...well, better time?”

“Ah, very well. If you say so.” A particularly booming squeak from the duck this time, the poor thing sounding as if it was having the life choked out of it. So it’d been picked up then, what a relief to have that much confirmed. “I need to go pick up the children from school anyways. I should’ve been out the door five minutes ago but _someone_ decided it’d be hilarious to help Papa in the garden today.”

An all-too pleased giggle sounded adjacent to Miles’ voice, as if to back up his statement. He sighed tiredly, Phoenix snorting. 

“She doesn’t sound the least bit sorry for it. I doubt you’re gonna get much of an apology out of her.”

“I doubt it as well, anyhow. I’ll let you go now, see you when you get back tonight. "

“Yeah, right. See you then.” 

As soon as he placed the phone back in its handset, he was met with a sheet of paper being tossed onto his desk, and looked up to meet the flaring eyes of a very short, very perturbed Winston Payne. The other man had seemingly appeared from out of nowhere, despite Phoenix having noticed him come out of his office. He’d admittedly lost track after that, and it wasn’t hard to see why. 

“Explain this, Wright!” His boss shrilled, in a voice that was more nasally and high than it had any right to be. Phoenix looked blankly down at the paper, then back up at him.

“I--explain what, sir--I don’t--”

“The De Lites’ policy. You approved payment on it.” Payne placed both hands on the desk, not slamming, but hard enough to jolt it. “What I’d like to know is why? Why exactly?”

“Oh...that?” 

Phoenix squinted back down at the paper, briefly recollecting just who the De Lites were and what policy he’d given the stamp of approval towards. He’d seen so many clients over the years that it was difficult to sometimes place the names to the faces, but the De Lites were one he could distinctly remember. They were a young couple, around the same age he and Miles had been when they were first married. Baby on the way, husband having just been fired from his job, and their house had been broken into. Any and all valuable goods were taken, and the house itself was pretty banged up on top of that, complete with shattered windows and a battered back door. 

Having gone to their house, seen the entire thing and talked with them and seen it all personally, he’d just not had the heart to disapprove their claim, and he still wasn’t certain as to why. Perhaps it was because of similar circumstances, them being in somewhat of the same position as he and Miles had been in when they were first married--minus the baby part--struggling to pay bills, pay for groceries. Trying to cover all the expenses of repairs for their home, not to mention recover their lost valuables would’ve surely put them into even more debt than they were now.

It wasn’t the first time sympathy had led to his approval of several other policies, and it wasn’t going to be the last if he were at this job for much longer. He wanted to help people if he could, if the opportunity presented itself, he probably would’ve found some way to help Ms. Oldbag if she’d just stopped talking long enough to let him. And seeing as how he could no longer do that in the way he would’ve liked to, this was his only alternative. Even if it was currently getting him in trouble. 

“I...their house was broken into, I didn’t think--I mean, they’re on a fixed income, Mr. Payne, there’s no way they would’ve been able to--”

“I don’t care about their income, Wright. That doesn’t matter.” Snatching the paper away, Payne sneered. “I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again; you can’t just keep approving every single sob story that lands in your lap. Paysurance is a well structured company, we make good money, and I’m not about to have it all come tumbling down because you wanna play Mr. Nice Guy. Do I make myself clear?”

He looked away from the man’s piercing gaze, head lowering. Not in shame, he wasn’t sorry at all for what he’d done and he had no regrets. Still, getting caught like this proved to be humiliating, especially when there was a good chance all his coworkers were likely hearing this from clear across the office.

“Crystal clear, sir..I’m sorry. I promise it won’t happen again.” 

This answer seemed to get Payne off his heels, given his somewhat satisfied huff. Not until he left the cubicle did Phoenix look back up, hands flexing, tensing. One he curled into a tight fist, so badly wanting to smack it against his desk but knowing full well the consequences that would bring with it, did not do so. 

Instead, all he could do was wilt backwards, sinking as far as his seat would possibly let him without breaking.

* * *

Miles should’ve known it was gonna be one of those days, right from the start.

He was bound to have at least one or two of them during the week, though never at the same times which made it less easy to predict, and just as difficult to prepare for. There was only so much one could do when the universe saw fit to throw one disaster after another towards you, and he’d found that even trying to take it all in stride was nigh unto impossible. Because even when he’d finally managed to get a hold on things, something else was bound to occur and all over again, he’d have to come up with a new system of getting things under control. 

Today, so far, was proving to be exactly that. It hadn’t started out that way, not in the slightest. In fact, everything had started out pretty calm and usual--he’d woken up at six-thirty, just as he did every morning. Showered, gotten dressed, then headed to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. At seven he’d gone to wake up Apollo and Kay, who as per usual were fast asleep. While they’d eaten he’d packed their lunches in-between attempts to get Trucy to eat her Cheerios (and NOT spill them all over the kitchen floor again). By that point in the morning Phoenix had come stumbling half-awake into the kitchen, mumbling out _“good mornings”_ to everyone before immediately heading for the coffee pot. 

Everything was going as it should, no mishaps, no spilled cereal or knocked over juice glasses for once. By seven-forty, all the dishes were in the sink and shoes were put on, bags were packed and lunches were handed out. Phoenix gave the expected goodbye kiss to the cheek, heading out the door to drop the older children off at school on his way to work.

And for the next couple of hours, things went on as usual. 

Miles had plopped Trucy down in her playpen, where she busied herself with the first toy she’d spotted and he’d gone about tidying the house up. He’d cleaned up the breakfast dishes, had vacuumed the floors, taken the trash out, only taking a break in-between to fix lunch. After lunch had found them in the backyard, seeing as it was a lovely spring day and Miles hadn’t seen fit to spend all of it cooped up inside. That, and the garden was in dire need of weeding, so he’d gone about doing so whilst Trucy was playing in the sandbox.

Or that’s what he’d thought she was doing. 

The laughing had been what prompted him to look around, and was promptly horrified to find the little girl delightedly clawing her tiny hands through the garden dirt, tearing up whatever flowers that were within her vicinity. 

That was when he’d realized this day was about to turn around in a very unfavorable direction. Which it had, continually since that moment. 

As soon as Trucy was settled in the tub and he’d taken her dirty clothes to be washed with the rest of the laundry, he’d discovered the machine to have not drained since its last usage, and no attempts of telling the damned thing to _“spin and drain”_ seemed to be working. Then he’d elected to try and call Phoenix about it, only to be repeatedly met with several failed attempts to reach him. 

Following that, things had seemed to have calmed down. Or at least they had, until he’d finally been able to leave to pick up the children from school. 

Trucy had since tired from her adventures in the garden and bath and spent most of the ride napping in her car seat, leaving Miles to enjoy what little peace he could before his cell phone rang. As if this wasn’t already wince-worthy enough on its own, he hadn’t been at all thrilled upon discovering that the caller was none other than the school principal--the elementary school principal to be exact, of the very school that Kay currently happened to be attending. 

Somehow, he’d expected this. It wasn’t uncommon to get one of these calls often, just as it wasn’t uncommon for his day to suddenly start spiraling with no warning. But really, Kay’s school called them so much he had to wonder if they were on speed dial or something like it. Like they just had a second sense of knowing when and why the girl was going to be sent to the office, which by now was becoming a weekly occurrence.

They hadn’t said what exactly was wrong over the phone, so naturally Miles’ mind had begun to wander. He never cared to jump to the worst conclusions, but when vague deals were given and the principal only requested for him to “be there as soon as possible”, what was he supposed to do--or think for that matter? Had his child gotten into a fight, was she hurt in any way? Would he have to be calling anyone’s parents again to smooth things out? These were the questions racing through his mind for the duration of the drive, continuing on as he’d parked and gone about unbuckling the still sleeping Trucy from the back, carefully placing her in her stroller so as not to wake her. 

He was mostly relieved upon arriving at the principal’s office to find no angry parent or other children there. Just a teacher--Angel Starr, the fifth-grade math teacher, if he properly recalled-- standing off to the side in aggravation, and Kay sitting in a hilariously oversized chair, the only thing confirming her presence being that of the untied shoelaces dangling from her bright pink sneakers. She’d turned her head back briefly as he entered, eyes widening as they met his, and quickly ducked back around out of sight.

That precise action was why he was _mostly_ relieved. No parents and no kids didn’t necessarily mean a lack of trouble, for all he’d known faculty had seen fit to deal with them individually and send them away so as not to stir further conflict. A wise action, considering past incidents. 

“Mr. Edgeworth, thank you so much for coming.” Miles looked back up, over to where the principal--Principal Lana Skye, was seated, hands professionally clasped together atop her desk. “Much as I appreciate it, I also apologize for the inconvenience, seeing as how you were called so sudden and all.”

“No inconvenience at all, Principal Skye, I can assure you.” He settled himself in the seat adjacent to Kay’s, parking the stroller with the sleeping Trucy inside of it next to him. “I was already on my way as it was, whether you told me before or after I left hardly matters. What does matter…”

He cut a slight gaze back to Kay, who kept her eyes concentrated on the floor. 

“...is what happened, and seeing as you were incredibly vague over the phone, I’d appreciate some more details.”

“Ah yes, about that. Well--”

“Your daughter is an unruly brat, that’s the only other detail you need to know.” Ms. Starr interjected, cutting off the principal before she could finish her response. “She’s a nuisance, always engaging in the most highly disruptive behavior. That’s grounds for detention, if you ask me.”

There was a low gasp from beside Miles--likely from Kay, whose head immediately shot up at the mere mention of the word _“detention”._ It might as well have been a death sentence given the way the color seemed to be draining from her face, that and the way her grip on her chair looked to have tightened immensely since Miles had last looked at her. Not too uncommon for someone in her position, considering the amount of trips she’d taken to the principal’s office already. But this would be the first time she’d ever been threatened with something as daunting as... _detention_ , before. 

Not that she deserved it, if it'd been anything more severe then maybe, but not over something as petty as this. 

“Ms. Starr, if I may ask,” Miles started, fixedly crossing his arms over his chest. In her stroller, Trucy stirred, yawning, and in the process of stretching accidentally knocked her favorite stuffed rabbit off the tray it’d previously been hanging out on. “What sort of ‘highly disruptive behavior’ has my daughter engaged in that warrants sentencing her to detention?”

“Misbehaving! In the middle of a timed test, at that! She was tearing pages of her notebook paper and deliberately tossing them at me!”

“Mm, and I’m assuming you saw her do this?”

“Well I--” By now, Trucy seemed to have noticed her fallen toy and had begun to throw a fuss, reaching her tiny hands down to where the rabbit was slumped over next to Miles’ chair. “No, I--not exactly….”

“Then how can you be sure it was actually her?” Reaching down to the floor, Miles scooped up Trucy’s rabbit and swiftly returned it to her, her fussing coming to a cease as she began to chew and slobber all over one of the animal’s tattered ears. “Unless you have some sort of conclusive proof, then I’m afraid you’re sorely mistaken.”

“Proof--what do you mean, I had an eye witness! One of the other students, they told me it was her--”

“And? Who’s to say they weren’t the ones who committed the act, and were merely lying to save face?” 

“I--I--” Ms. Starr was all but sputtering now, helplessly glancing between almost everyone in the room--everyone save for Trucy that was, she was quite content where she was and not at all bothered in the slightest. “You don’t know that, you can’t know that, you have no way--”

“Neither do you. Perhaps we’ll never know who truly did it. Either way, I hardly doubt that this is serious enough to require a visit to detention. Wouldn’t you agree, Principal?”

He nodded at Principal Skye, who’d been watching the scene unfold with an all too entertained and at the same time, impressed expression on her face. Why she looked as such bemused Miles, he couldn’t help it if his inner law student liked to escape from him sometimes. Really, he nearly wanted to laugh himself at how reminiscent this was of those days, where he’d sit in on trials and get to witness first hand what all went down. They weren’t skills he’d ever gotten to use for an actual career, but damn if they didn’t prove to be an aid to him in his everyday life.

Come to think of it, perhaps that was why he didn’t laugh over it. If he did, he feared it would come out sounding far too bitter for his liking.

“When you put it that way, yes. I suppose I do.” The principal returned the nod, and at the same time, Ms. Starr let out a mortified gasp. “Apologies, Angel, but I’m afraid Mr. Edgeworth makes a solid point. If you can't otherwise prove that Kay was solely or intentionally responsible, then this issue is dismissed. As are you for that matter, I’m sure you have more productive things to do other than trying to unfairly send your students to detention, don't you?"

“But I--now wait a minute! It shouldn't matter--"

“ _Dismissed,_ Angel, I’m not going to repeat myself again.”

At this, visible defeat overcame the teacher, her entire face contorting in displeasure whilst she stormed out of the room, grumbling in discontent to herself. Kay turned around in her chair to watch her go, snickering for only a moment before a prompt shush from Miles got her to turn back around and quiet down. Shortly afterwards, Principal Skye dismissed them as well, not before apologizing for a second time and stating that “hopefully they wouldn’t be seeing each other again until the next PTA meeting”.

Given their past track record, however, Miles knew the likelihood of that was next to none.

* * *

“I wasn’t actually aiming for her, you know.”

Miles cut his eyes towards his daughter--long enough to see that she was in the same browbeaten position she’d been in since they’d left the school, arms folded and one half of her face squished against the window. Up until now she’d remained this way in complete silence, an attitude very unbecoming of the usually bubbly and bright child who, on better school days, spent the entire ride home talking on and on about what she’d done in class, at recess and the like. Now naturally, he hadn’t expected her to be the same way today provided her visit with the principal, but it’d been a good six minutes without a single word passing between either of them. The only one who’d seen fit to say anything was Trucy, who was babbling nonsense from the backseat while preoccupying herself with flinging banana puffs all over the place, most joining the crumbs of past snacks which were beginning to very noticeably accumulate on the car floor. A few had even made their way into the front, bouncing off the dashboard and into cup holders. How she was managing to fling them that far Miles decided against trying to figure out, and after mentally reminding himself to vacuum out the car when they got home, went about concerning himself with his driving. 

Or he had, until Kay had spoken just now, saying what essentially was a confession that she had indeed committed the very act he'd spent a good two minutes defending her on. Not that he was shocked, her demeanor in the office had been enough to tell him she'd been responsible, but still, that didn't mean he was about to just sit idly by and let the situation be blown out of proportion, even if'd it meant fudging the truth a bit. He'd hated to do so but in this case, it'd been a necessary evil.

He could only spare a second to glance at her, not responding until he’d pulled up to a stop at a red light. 

“Would you mind elaborating exactly what you mean by that?” 

“Ms. Starr. I wasn’t trying to hit her with the paper ball.” She shifted, lifting her head from the window but not unfolding her arms. “I was bored but I mean, I wasn’t that bored. It’s not my fault she turned around before I could catch it that last time--”

“Before _you_ could catch it? ” Several more puffs landed in the cup holder next to him, Miles sighing heavily. “Kay...please tell me you weren’t actually…”

Shrugging, Kay slumped back into her seat, right as the traffic light turned green and the car moved forward. “I told you I was bored, I’m sorry.”

“That’s hardly much of an excuse, you know what I’ve said--what your father and I have said about doing those kinds of things in public, let alone school.” He turned a corner, cringing at the sound of the entire can of puffs being turned over and spilled onto the floor, Trucy letting out a delighted squeal in the process. “It’s reckless, not to mention incredibly risky. Do you know what might’ve happened if someone had seen you?”

“No one saw me, though--”

“That’s not my point. My point is, someone _could_ have seen you, and you’d be in for a much harsher punishment than simply a visit to Principal Skye’s office.” Another red light, this time at a crosswalk where a whole line of people were waiting to cross the street. “And we can’t risk that, it’s why…”

His voice trailed as bits and pieces from past conversations with the principal echoed in his ears. Suggestions of an after school activity, suggestions of sports, soccer tryouts. Track and field, perhaps, or baseball. There was certainly no shortage to pick from, and any other parent would’ve been glad to pick the first option offered to them, all so they could at last have a resolution to their child’s antics. But that was the real problem wasn’t it, after all, Miles wasn’t “any other parent”, and Kay’s antics were not something that could be so easily solved like this. 

No, not when allowing her to do something as harmless as playing soccer could very well be a risk to their family’s well being. 

It was unfair when he really thought about it, the fact that her having powers prevented her from getting to partake in otherwise normal childhood activities. Especially when time and time again, she’d so very badly wanted to--he couldn’t even begin to count the times he’d come to pick her up from school and found her wistfully staring off into the nearby soccer field where the other children were playing. In another lifetime maybe, when she hadn’t been the biological daughter of ex-Supers it might’ve been possible that he’d allowed it, but that just simply wasn’t so.

Because as it currently stood, she _was_ the biological daughter of ex-Supers, and the adopted daughter of two other ex-Supers who’d been completely unaware of this fact when they’d brought her home all those years ago. All they’d known at the time was that her parents had been killed and she’d been left with no other relatives to take her in, they only found out the hard way--and after the fact--that she had her own special set of powers. That first night she’d been at the house, she’d been adamant in her refusal to take a bath and had sent her new parents on a rather exhausting trek through the house to catch her, practically leaving nothing but dust and skid marks in her tracks.

Needless to say that had taken some getting used to, as had Apollo’s unusual habits when they’d first adopted him. Just like Kay, he’d had some trouble adjusting to his new home--perhaps on a worse level given that he was only two and a half at the time, and it’d seemed like forever before they’d finally gotten him to settle down and go to sleep. Some hours into the night they’d been woken up by cries coming from his room, and a half-awake Phoenix had volunteered to go see what the matter was, only to come rushing in a panic back into he and Miles’ room several seconds later. He’d all but pulled him out of bed to Apollo’s room, where at first glance it seemed the boy was wrapped up in a bundle of blankets, but upon further inspection was nowhere to be seen. It’d only taken another couple of nights following that for them to realize he had powers, although before that Phoenix was certain they were being haunted. Given the circumstances, Miles couldn’t say he’d for sure prefer that option over the former. 

Thankfully they’d had no such events since adopting Trucy, and so far it didn’t seem like they ever would. She was a happy, healthy, and an otherwise rambunctious little girl, and all they had to worry about was whether she was hitting her milestones or not. Whereas with Apollo and Kay, they’d had to worry about making sure their powers weren’t noticeable.

If anything, what had happened today proved that that was easier said than done. 

“...it’s why you won’t let me play sports, I know.”

He stirred from his unintentional train of thought, mainly in part to Kay’s sullenly miffed voice and the impatient car horn honking from behind him. By now the group of people waiting to cross were already well across the street, and the light was flashing a bright green. 

"I...wasn't going to say that, exactly." They pulled forward and turned yet another corner, the green light transitioning to a slower blinking yellow. “I was _going_ to say that’s why we need to find you a more formative outlet. Something more productive, perhaps, and more fulfilling than messing about in class. Now, I’m sorry that it cannot be sports but it is for good reason, and I don’t think I should have to repeat myself on the matter when we’ve just gone over it.” 

“But what if I promised not to show off?” Kay was all but pleading now, and no doubt had the biggest, most desperate expression cast on her face. Having had this exact conversation several times over before, Miles didn’t have to look at her to know this, in fact he could just as well see it without doing so. “What if I did the same as everyone else, you know, what if I pretended? Nobody would even know, Papa, please--"

"Kay. What did I just say?" 

She silenced, slumping her head back against the window. The entire car was quiet now, even Trucy having settled down minus the occasional coo now and then. A minute passed before anything else was said or done, not until they'd come to yet another stop at what must've been the hundredth red light on the road today. 

"'s not fair…"

It was a barely audible mumble, but was loud enough to cause a knife-like pang in Miles’ heart. He wasn’t surprised when he glanced over to see Kay's genuinely crestfallen face through the reflection in the window, even if it was what he’d expected to see that didn’t mean it stung any less. Between him and Phoenix, he’d more or less been the one to put his foot down in a majority of these scenarios, and despite what the children actually thought did not take any pleasure in doing so. Not when he himself had been denied something that he truly wanted, something he’d been dreaming of doing for nearly his entire life. 

And it was for the same reason that Kay couldn’t do sports, why he constantly had to request special permission for her to sit out of the more challenging P.E. classes. Because he had powers, and he’d used those powers as Flexuous, had become a Super, a hero to so many people. That was, until the lawsuits had started, and he’d suddenly found himself having to start from the ground up all over again. High profile careers such as law were a no no for many ex-Supers, and from his knowledge a lot of them had been forced into similarly underpaying and unassuming jobs just as Phoenix was. Miles himself had been given the opportunity when they were first relocated, but he’d declined, not wanting to work in any other field than the one he’d chosen.

This was how he’d ended up being the one to stay at home. 

Sure, he’d eventually decided to do the occasional part time work as a legal aide every now and then when the family needed some extra money, but it wasn’t as gratifying as the idea of getting to have an actual career in the field. 

Or getting to do actual hero work again. Hassle as it was to manage, it’d been just as big of a part in his life as his dreams of a law career had been. Much as he’d tried to make peace with the fact that neither of these things were ever going to happen for him in this lifetime, they still insisted on remaining a stubbornly constant grievance in the very back of his mind.

And that’s all they were ever going to be. 

For the good of his family, that’s all he could _allow_ them to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. The last time I updated this, it was May...and now its August apparently?? 
> 
> Damn, what is time, even. 
> 
> Well, I hope the fact that this another long chapter will make up for it. I hope the time skip wasn't too jarring but like, y'all have seen the movie so you knew this was coming, lmao. Also for the record, I was originally going to have Athena in Dash's role but I just couldn't see her being someone who constantly got sent to the principal's office, so as you can see, some minor recasting was done. Much as I feel bad for shafting Athena from this fic, I honestly think Kay is a much better fit all things considered. Plus I just need more Dadworth and Kay interactions in general, I don't think there's nearly enough in this fandom. 
> 
> As always, leave a comment and/or kudos if you enjoyed!


	4. Dull Days and Dinners (Almost)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Apollo is stressed and just wishes he could gather up enough courage to go talk to his crush, Phoenix just wants to get home and have a moment's peace before dinner, and Miles longs for the days in which dinnertime wasn't such a mundane event. Only one of them gets their wish...but unfortunately, not in the way he'd so hoped.

Just one day. Just one, stress free, normal day was all Apollo was asking for. 

He held such a wish every morning he woke up, keeping his fingers mentally crossed that something would be different. That everything would magically go the way he wanted, and he wouldn’t have to run the risk of anything unfortunate happening. 

That’s exactly what had happened, of course, and he blamed solely one person for that-- two people if you counted his father, who’d texted him with the apology that “he might be a few minutes due to an unexpected circumstance”, nothing of which he’d elaborated on and Apollo hadn’t even wanted to know that badly, especially if there was a strong likelihood of it having something to do with his sister and the principal’s office. Whatever it was, he’d likely hear about it later at home, and thus had decided to not dwell on it, instead heading to the library to knock out some homework in the meantime.

Which was where he currently was, seated at his usual desk, with each book from his backpack placed next to him in a neat stack. Each book, that was, save for his Chemistry book, which sat open in front of him, containing words that he wasn’t even going to pretend to understand. At some point during his attempts to read the assigned chapters, the words had all started to blend in with one another and the next thing he knew, he’d given up and had gone back to reviewing what little notes he’d managed to take in his English class that day.

Or he’d tried to do that, until he realized his brain was completely and utterly spent from having spent the last remainder of his official school hours trying to finish a History exam, and elected to instead continue the random doodles he’d started after giving up on note taking. It wasn’t that he hadn’t tried to pay attention, he’d really made an honest effort to -- but it also wasn’t his fault that Klavier Gavin was the one who’d volunteered to read from the textbook today.

That’d only made it all the more difficult to focus on the actual words being said. 

At one point or another maybe he wouldn’t have been so fixated on this particular person and not the words...but then again, maybe he should have counted on it, after all, it was bound to have happened after what he’d done last week--what that _one_ person had asked him to do. Never in a million years had he planned on ever doing such a thing, let alone talk to that person but because the universe seemingly had it out for him, found himself doing so anyways.

It’d been an afternoon just like this, his father running late because of another Kay incident. Like he usually did in these cases, he’d paid a trip to the library to wait. Armed with his homework he’d entered, about to make his way to his usual table when he’d seen him. Klavier Gavin, the new transfer student who had practically all the girls--and half the guys, even--at school swooning at his feet. Apollo couldn’t say he was in that crowd, if he were being honest Klavier had annoyed him from the minute he’d arrived. For one thing, the guy was a complete showoff during music class--not to mention P.E., history and science as well, he just seemed to be a natural at everything, and everyone practically worshipped him for it. 

Everyone except Apollo, that was. 

He mostly avoided him, and was intent on doing so that day as well and up until that point had succeeded, but wasn’t quite as fortunate whilst attempting to casually slip by unnoticed. He’d thought it might be easy, given that he was currently hunched over his own table with both hands gripping fistfuls of his hair. It was an admittedly intriguing sight to Apollo, who’d never seen his classmate so much as flinch during a stressful exam, and he’d wondered what exactly could’ve been wrong, if the so-called “perfect” transfer student had finally met his match somehow.

Well, he’d soon found out, although not willingly. 

In his attempt to casually slip by unnoticed, he was caught, and to his own shock found himself voluntarily choosing to ask if he was alright, then spent the next several minutes listening as Klavier vented about his difficulties with the English paper he was currently working on. Shocking himself even further, Apollo had readily agreed to help him out with it--he still didn’t know why, but even when all was said and done he was surprised to not feel the relief he’d expected when Klavier had left.

Instead he’d felt...upset? He wasn’t sure, he still wasn’t sure now and it was frustrating--but during that whole time he’d spent helping him out, they’d gotten to talking and suddenly, he didn’t seem as aggravatingly perfect anymore. Granted he was still a tad aggravating, that was never bound to change, but he was unexpectedly nice, easy to talk to.

It also didn’t hurt that he was ridiculously easy on the eyes either, and that just made things even worse, even more frustrating to deal with after the fact. Apollo had found that he wanted to talk to him more, wanted to actually hang out with him after getting that one day, that one conversation, but aside from a few chance meetings in the hallway nothing much else had happened with them. Klavier had said something about repaying him for his help with the essay, but hadn’t made good on his promise thus far--likely being too caught up in being popular, like he always was. 

That alone lessened any chance Apollo might’ve had in getting to talk with him, to do literally anything else than those brief exchanges of hello each day, and it wasn’t like he could very well do so after school seeing as Klavier always went directly home after band practice. That’s where he was now, last Apollo had looked. He’d heard music coming from the practice room on his way over to the library, but hadn’t stopped long enough to peek, not at the chance of being noticed, and he didn’t want to seem even more weird than he already was. 

So he’d continued on to where he was now, in the library, with only his books and the piano music playing from his cellphone as company. And this was where he would be until he finally got the “okay” text to come outside and be picked up. 

At least, that’s what he’d planned on until he suddenly found the piano music cut off, his earbuds yanked free and hitting the table. Thinking at first they’d caught on something, he furrowed his eyebrows and glanced around to see that that was not the case -- and that some incredibly imposing popular kid was standing behind him. No, make that _two_ incredibly imposing popular kids -- no, three -- no wait, it was just two, though he had no idea who they were. He had no idea who anyone in this school was half the time -- except for the one person that he hung out with occasionally, and he blamed that on the fact he’d only been going here for four months now.

“Uh...hi?” He offered, scooping his earbuds back up and placing them in his hoodie pocket. Neither kid said anything at first, until the shorter one gave the taller one a nod, and they stepped forward.

“So, word around the school’s you helped Gavin with his English paper.” He said, head turned up as Apollo continued to watch warily, before reaching back to slowly shut his notebook. 

“Gavin…? Oh...yeah, uh, I guess I did. What about it?”

“What about it, is that that paper got him an A-.” The boy sniggered and leaned forward, hands moving to his hips. “Something of which I--or rather, both of us currently lack, if you catch my drift.”

Apollo blinked. 

“I don’t…”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, Justice, we’re asking you to write our papers for us.” snapped the other kid, moving to stand beside his friend. “Do we have to spell it out for you?”

Oh. So that’s what this was.

Okay so in hindsight, perhaps coming to the library was a bad choice. Given that the last several times he’d been in here, several popular students who were either friends or knew Klavier had come up to him demanding help with their own papers, and by help that of course meant Apollo being the one to write them. Now it’d be one thing if they just needed help with a few words and phrases, he would gladly assist if that were the case. 

And it wasn’t. It never was or had been except for that chance meeting with Klavier, and he didn’t know why people had suddenly gotten so forward with asking him when they were otherwise content to simply ignore him half of the time. 

Funny how these things worked.

Knowing all too well the response he was about to be met with, Apollo continued a subtle pack up of his books while trying half-heartedly to explain why he couldn’t just write their papers for them. He figured the only reason they hadn’t decked him right there was because of the scowl the librarian was giving them, but that hadn’t deterred them from waiting for him out in the hall. 

As soon as he’d stepped out they’d given chase, sending him practically flying out the door. Diving behind the bushes, every part of him vanished in that instant. Arms, hands, legs and face all included, clothes and backpack, not so much. He was fortunate enough to have the bushes camouflage those items for him, and held his breath as the doors flung open and footsteps pounded down the concrete steps. 

A painful two minutes later the bullies retreated back into the building to resume their search, and it was only then that he deemed it safe to reappear, crawling out from the bushes. As he stood and began to brush the dirt and twigs from his clothing, the doors were flying open again, and he instinctively ducked, prepared to vanish at any given second. 

_“Bis Später!_ Good practice today, guys!” 

His breath caught in his throat, heartbeat picking up. 

Peering over the railing, Apollo watched Klavier descend the steps, waving back at a few of his bandmates. He then shrugged a guitar case free from where it was strapped over his shoulder, setting it on the steps as he took a seat and pulled out his phone, beginning to mindlessly scroll through it while he presumably waited for his ride. 

Swallowing hard, Apollo spun back around, painfully aware of the warmth nipping at the nape of his neck and the blush that was likely to accompany it. Back pressed to the wall, he slid down it until making contact with the ground, fists mashing into the grass. 

He was alone. They were alone. There was no one else here except them, he could absolutely get up and talk to him now if he really wanted to. And he did, he did want to, very much--but at the same time, no, no he didn’t. He couldn’t, there was no way. What business did he have, a nobody like him trying to say or do anything with one of the most popular people in school? No business at all, zero, zilch, nada.

If either of his friends were here, then maybe he’d stand a better chance. They’d hype him up, surely, they were good for doing that sort of thing since he couldn’t seem to manage it itself. But then that was the issue wasn’t it, neither of them were currently here right now. He’d not seen Clay since they’d moved last summer, and Athena was on vacation visiting family. As far things were considered, Apollo’s case was hopeless.

Scratch that, _he_ was hopeless. Doomed, a loner, destined to spend the rest of his day hiding in his room and screaming into a pillow with the hopes that the universe would finally take a hint and give him a break. 

But no, that clearly was asking too much.

Daring himself, he looked over the railing a second time. Klavier was occupied with his phone still, what was the chance he could...perhaps...possibly...maybe a squeeze in a couple of words before either of their parents arrived to pick them up. Damn it, he could do this, it shouldn’t be that hard--they’d talked before hadn’t they, it wasn’t like they were complete strangers--

Any composure he’d managed to build vanished at the sound of a ridiculously loud car horn going off, and he ducked right back down as Klavier glanced up, putting his phone away, standing up. Back the guitar case went over his shoulder, and off he went to the sleek black car that was waiting for him in the parking lot. Apollo could only watch him go, unable to bring himself to stand up, to shout or do literally anything else, not until the familiar sight of his Papa’s derelict old car came pulling in after the other’s departure, and Kay popped her head out of the window to yell for him to “hurry up before they left him there”. 

Sighing, he shrugged his backpack back on and stood up, doing as she said. It wasn’t like he could do anything else, not now. The moment was gone, he’d let it slip by and at the rate he was going, he was going to let it keep on slipping by until it was completely out of reach. 

* * *

It went without saying that Phoenix despised traffic.

Back in the day he supposed he could tolerate it, given he hadn’t been stuck in a cubicle and answering phone calls all day, or that his former car hadn’t had as much in common with a shoe box as this one did. But given that this was the case now, it was reasonable that he was in more of an urgency to get back home, to kick off his shoes, yank off this constricting excuse of a neck tie and hopefully have a few minutes to decompress before dinner was ready...shit, with the amount of time he’d been stuck in this traffic he’d be lucky if he could manage a few _seconds._

Any decompressing it seemed, would have to wait until later. Though thankfully not too much later, since the traffic seemed to be gradually advancing at a steady pace now. Groggily sitting up from the wheel, Phoenix pressed his foot to the gas pedal and followed suit, driving off the freeway and down the road that would ultimately lead to his neighborhood-and by that measure, his house.

Approaching it, he was met with an unusual sense of not only comfort, but uncertain dread. Maybe not the same sort of dread he’d feel when driving to work--that itself was on a whole other level and was usually felt alone with no other side emotions, what he felt now could only be described as... _something_.

He hadn’t found a proper word for it yet, only that it’d become more and more prominent as the years went by. 

Once upon a time coming home hadn’t felt quite as conflicting as it did now, why he could fondly recall numerous occasions where he’d barely taken one step through the front door before being tackled by two excitedly exuberant and very small kids, who’d spend the next few minutes hanging onto his legs and fighting for his attention while he tried his best to kiss their father and ask him how his day had gone.

Nowadays, he was greeted with less enthusiasm, and an empty entryway. 

He didn’t know at what point it’d started to become that way, but with the older that the kids had gotten and the older he himself had become, such greetings became less and less and he’d found himself falling into a less eventful routine of simply pulling into the driveway, saying hi to whoever wasn’t currently holed up in their bedroom, then shuffling off to the den for a few minutes before Miles called him out for dinner.

Or on some days, like today, there was the added bonus of accidentally stepping on Kay’s scooter the minute he got out of the car. It wasn’t a welcome or appreciative bonus that was for sure, not when it nearly caused him to throw his back out. Yelping loudly, he grabbed at the car door to keep from completely plummeting to the ground, dismayed to find a Phoenix-sized hand dent on it upon letting go. 

_Great._

This day just kept getting better and better.

After two forceful attempts to shut the door only resulted in the window shattering, Phoenix was extremely tempted to just grab the entire car and chuck it down the street -- and he was about to, until he noticed Cody Hackins, who lived a few houses down from them, coming down the street on his bike, throwing a non discrete glance Phoenix’s way before looping back around. Not that surprising of a sight really, that kid had seen him pick up the entire car _once_ and now conducted a daily survey of their house for any possible repeats of that event, likely so he could prove to his parents that yes, Mr. Wright from next door was a Super and no, he wasn’t making things up this time, he promised. 

Well, Phoenix hated to disappoint him, but he wasn’t currently about to pull a stunt like that -- much as it’d be a mercy kill to send this car careening across town, he also didn’t want to deal with the repercussions of that as of right now, and instead headed into the house where as expected, he found no one waiting to immediately tackle or even greet him. 

Wearily, he loosened his tie and set his briefcase on the entryway console, catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror hanging above it. Now, Phoenix couldn’t exactly say that the years hadn’t been kind to him, but then again, they hadn’t really been all that sparing either. 

Being on the cusp of turning forty, he was beginning to show his age in more ways than one--no thanks to the combined stress from both his home and work life. Crow’s feet accompanied the dark bags hanging underneath his eyes, and patchy bits of unshaved stubble lined almost his entire jawline. Noticeable strands of graying hair popped out from where he’d tried and failed to comb them down that morning, even smoothing them down now did little to keep them from springing back out again. 

Damn, what a far cry from the energetic, enthusiastic young Super he’d used to be. When the hell had he gotten this old? Obvious answer, really, but that didn’t mean he wanted to think about it. That would only lead into a whole chain reaction of terrible, no good thoughts that he didn’t currently have the willpower to entertain. 

Leaving the entryway, he walked into the living room, where two of his three children presently resided. Apollo was nowhere to be found and likely in his bedroom, and Kay sat upside down on the sofa, fully concentrating on whatever cartoon was currently playing on the television. Trucy meanwhile was seated on the floor, surrounded by a pile of plastic blocks, holding one in each hand whilst gleefully laughing and clacking them together. At the sight of Phoenix, she dropped them and started making grabby hands towards him, loudly squealing. 

Well, at least there was one person thrilled to see him. 

“Heya, Truce. Have a nice day?” Phoenix smiled, albeit tiredly, and much as it pained his back to do so, stooped to pick her up, placing a kiss on her soft cheek. She let out another squeal and promptly face planted into his shoulder, contentedly nuzzling her face against it.

“I’m assuming that’s a yes, then.” He glanced over at Kay, who still seemed quite oblivious to his presence. Which was odd, given her usually cheerful demeanor. Despite not tackling him the minute he stepped through the door anymore, she was always happy when he got home and would start talking his ears off the first chance she got. 

Today she just seemed...distracted. Even the cartoon barely seemed to be holding her attention. 

He managed to get one “hi dad” out of her after clearing his throat, but that was about it. Other than that she didn’t seem one for conversation at the moment, so he decided to let her be for now. Setting Trucy back down on the floor, he moved onwards, passing the kitchen where Miles was busily chopping away at something on a cutting board, back turned. He turned, scraping its contents into a pot on the stove, unintentionally yet directly offering a Phoenix full side view of his face. 

So serious. So concentrated. Just as he always was. 

Age, it seemed, had been much more friendlier to him than it had been to Phoenix. He had very little wrinkles to speak of save for a few here and there, and sometime during the years had been forced to trade in his reading glasses for a pair of actual eyeglasses. His once dark brown had faded to a rather admittedly pleasant shade of silver, unlike Phoenix’s hair which was stuck between greying and staying its original color. 

Still, it didn’t make him seem any less attractive then he’d been fifteen years ago. Seeing him now made a familiar warmth churn around in Phoenix’ stomach, not quite as strong as it’d been in the old days but it was still there. Still burning, its yearning to be quelled accompanied by the fact that the chance of that happening was second to none. It would’ve been more likely back when it’d only been the two of them, when they were young and without half as much worry and stress as they had now. 

Because of this, the most Phoenix could offer was a kiss to the cheek, sometimes a peck on the lips. Neither did much to cease the yearning ache, only feeling more like an obligation. Like he was expected to do these things, because they were married and that’s what married couples did. Just like his mixed feelings towards coming home he didn’t know when exactly it’d started to feel that way, just that it did. 

And rather than fight it, he’d decided to accept it as part of the burnout that inevitably came with middle age. He’d thought things would be different for him and Miles, since they were both Supers; there was no way either of them would’ve been weary of repeat days, with all the new adventures awaiting them every day. It’d always be something different, something new and exciting, and they’d carry that zeal with them into their more normal everyday actions. 

Yet here they were fifteen years after the fact, both aged and disenchanted with life and living the same day over and over, albeit a few differences here and there. Not that any of those differences were in any way groundbreaking, nor would they ever be. Not unless some sort of miracle happened, which at this rate, Phoenix doubted it would. 

So instead of continuing to pine for something that would probably never come, he carried out his expected duty and greeted Miles with a worn “hey” and kiss to the cheek, curiously inquiring about what was for dinner.

“Leftovers, if you want to be technical about it.” Miles turned a knob on the stove, causing a soft red glow to emanate from underneath the pot he’d scraped the veggie remnants into. “You wouldn’t believe how much food we had culminating in the fridge, I figured it was high time to do something about them before they started going bad.”

“Oh. Yeah, makes sense.” Phoenix shuffled over to the fridge and pulled it open, mindlessly scanning its contents. He didn’t know what he was looking for exactly, but it was better than standing around awkwardly while his mind blanked on conversation topics. Miles seemed to share this issue as well, as it took another few seconds of dead air and the oven alarm going off for either of them to speak again. 

“So...erm, how was work? Same as usual, I’m assuming.”

“You assumed right. Didn’t get much done in the way of the actual reports I was supposed to file, but what can you do?” Phoenix shrugged, settling to grab a small bottle of grape juice tucked away on the lower shelf. He popped the lid off and took a sip from it, letting the fridge door fall shut and looked back to where Miles was taking a roaster pan out of the oven. “What about you? Your day any better?”

“No, unfortunately. I can’t say that it was.” Setting the pan down, Miles took off his oven mitt and sighed. “I’d hoped that things were going to calm down after the laundry machine incident but alas, that didn’t turn out to be the case.”

“Huh, that uh, that sucks. What happened?”

“Hm. Nothing I wish to presently discuss, if I’m being perfectly honest.” He shook his head, while moving to retrieve another pan from the cabinet. 

“You sure? Because--”

“I’m very sure, yes.” Unwrapping something covered in foil, Miles placed whatever it was on the other tray he’d taken out. Probably meatloaf judging by its lumpy brown shape. “And I’m also in the middle of preparing dinner, so I’d appreciate a little less in the way of distraction right now.”

 _Ouch_. 

“Right, yeah. Sorry.” Phoenix nodded, taking a long and much needed swig of his drink. “I guess in that case I’ll just head back to the den for a while....you’ll ah, let me know when dinner is ready, right?”

“Of course. I always do.”

That marked the end of the conversation as the two parted ways, Miles continuing on with dinner preparations and Phoenix trudging down the hallway, alone and dejected. He did spare a moment to look at the laundry machine on the way, remembering his rushed promise to do so during their phone call earlier but wasn’t able to make much progress before realizing he was too exhausted, and didn’t presently contain enough patience to do much about it. 

Upon making it to the den, he flicked on the light to reveal the plethora of memorabilia from his hero days lining the walls and shelves. Posters, newspaper clippings, magazine covers, all framed and positioned by order of date. Pictures he’d taken with fans, a few drawings gifted to him by the kids he’d saved from a school bus on the verge of falling from a bridge.

His super suit. In a display case, preserved perfectly and in pristine condition. 

Unlike himself.

Dropping into his seat, he let himself slide downwards as much as he could without entirely slipping out of it. He vacantly rolled his drink between his hands, staring over at his suit which was all but mocking him from where it sat behind the glass. Another burning sensation twisted around in his stomach, similar to the one he’d felt just a few minutes back. Similar in the sense that he was longing for something that the universe deemed he could no longer have. 

And it was for that reason he turned away, slipping his phone free from his pocket and pulled up a news app to mindlessly scroll through until Miles came knocking at the door to tell him that dinner was on the table. Halfway through doing so he stopped, his attention caught by one image in particular--the image of a white-haired man, scar across the bridge of his nose where a red-rimmed pair of glass also sat. He was dressed in a vest and suit get-up, standing unsuspectingly at a podium where some paparazzi had likely taken a picture of him without his knowledge. 

Above this clearly covert image sat the title, printed in bold font: _“Diego Armando, longtime supporter of superhero rights, has been declared missing”_ , it read, intriguing Phoenix further. 

That name sounded really familiar for some reason...but why? 

It took several readings of the article before it finally clicked for him. Diego Armando, aka “The Red Masque”, a former Super he’d only ever once or twice had the pleasure of meeting due in no small part to his old mentor, Mia Fey. The first incident was courtesy of some “bonus training” as she’d so put it, as this was back in ye olden days of his being Captain Indestructible and he wasn’t that well adjusted to the tried and true ways of being a Super just yet. It was through Armando that he’d learned the duck and roll method to avoid being shot at, even if the man had been less than gentle in teaching him to do so. 

The second incident, well...that’d been under less friendly circumstances. It’d also been the last time Phoenix had seen Armando in person before the lawsuits and relocations started, and any Supers who might have been acquaintances lost contact with one another. 

Thinking about it now, it was a miracle he and Miles hadn’t been separated when the whole thing had gone down, though it did end up being a long while before he’d gotten to see Maya again. Armando on the other hand, was nothing but an afterthought to him. The most he’d seen of him had been in the news every now and then, something about him campaigning for Supers’ rights or something, but even then he hadn’t paid those articles much mind. 

Not until now, that was, and that was only for the fact that the man was currently missing, which...from what Phoenix could recall about Armando, was not at all surprising to hear. With his general temperament and overall attitude, it wasn’t a shock that he’d seemingly spent so much time making efforts to get Supers back under the public’s good graces. It was a risky move to make all things considered, such a move could easily get him in trouble with the government.

Which could explain why he’d gone missing. 

The government wasn’t all too keen on Supers making themselves known again and would likely do anything to shut them up, God knows Phoenix had heard his fair share of rumors involving secret laboratories and experiments. Such rumors and this news now were the only reasons he himself had never thought to get involved in these campaigns, these protests. He’d wanted to himself at some point, but then before he’d even realized it, he had a family to take care of. 

And suddenly, it was just too risky to just simply entertain the thought. Though, it wasn’t like advocating for Supers alone was the only thing one could do to inadvertently put themselves in jeopardy. Phoenix should know so better than anyone, it was why they’d had to move twice within the past couple of years.

And maybe, just maybe it’d been the same thing that had also contributed to Armando’s going missing. Phoenix didn’t know, no one did according to the article, and what was the chance they would ever find out?

A slim chance, a very slim one at that. So ultimately, it didn’t matter, and this would end up being another article that would fade into obscurity as time went by. 

But despite that being his initial thought, he still continued to read through it, even when he got up to go to dinner a few minutes later. 

* * *

Dinnertime. 

The one time of day besides breakfast when the family could all be in the same room together, a chance for them to talk about their days and their plans. Whereas it’d once upon a time been quite the lively event around the Edgeworth-Wright household, it had over the years dwindled down to a more standard fare of everyone just sitting and eating, saying nothing save for weak attempts at conversation. 

Miles had to wonder if he’d ever been in the wrong for his silent complaining of past dinner times, the more rowdy ones where food would be flung across the table and kids would annoy each other. Not that he wanted it to go back to complete and utter chaos, but it would be nice if the scraping of forks and the clearing of throats wasn’t the only ambience offered.

Even then, the scraping of forks seemed to be at an impasse tonight, as everyone either picked at their food or just stared down at it with great disinterest. That was the scene at the table tonight since they’d all sat down, and the only one that seemed mildly interested in saying or doing anything had been Trucy. Now granted, she _was_ protesting Miles’ attempts to get her to eat her food, but at least it was _something_ when compared with the deafening silence.

“Now Trucy, please. If you could just be reasonable--” Up went the same sporkful of mashed peas he’d been offering for the past five minutes, and again, the baby’s face scrunched up in refusal. “I’m not asking for much, just one more bite. Can’t you do that much for me, please?”

As a response, she turned her head to the side, letting out a defiant squall. 

“Maybe she just doesn’t like peas. I know I don’t.” Miles glanced over to where Kay was repeatedly stabbing her fork into her meatloaf. As if to back up her point, her own serving of peas lay untouched, and likely cold next to it. 

“Well, I’m sorry, but it doesn’t matter if you like it or not,” he replied, sighing as Trucy shook her head at his next attempt, and the next, scrunching her nose up. “It's what I cooked, so you’re both going to have to eat them, one way or another.” 

“But--”

“No buts, you know we don’t waste food in this house. So eat up.”

Kay stopped stabbing at her meatloaf, staring down at her peas with complete disgust. As if the action almost pained her to do so, she stuck her fork into one singular pea. She stared at it as well, no closer to eating it then she was before. Neither was Trucy for that matter, she was more or less fixated on gnawing on her plastic spork, which Miles hadn’t even realized she’d stolen from him in his attempts to persuade her sister. 

“Really, Kay. It's not going to kill you, just go ahead and eat it.” He turned and tugged the spork free from Trucy’s grasp, earning a tiny wail of protest in response. “Even your brother wasn’t this picky at your age, my goodness.” 

Kay’s face creased in disgust and she dropped her fork, dropping her face into her hands as she sighed. She looked over to where Apollo was seated in front of her, huffing, before a slow smirk found its way onto her face and she perked back up. 

“Really? ‘Cause those peas still look pretty uneaten to me.” 

Miles followed her glance, albeit more tentatively, over to Apollo’s full plate of food -- and then to the boy himself, whose head was indeed lowered but not towards the table. No, it was lowered towards something else, and the faint glow emanating from underneath the table was evidence enough for Miles to figure out what that something was. 

“Hm. Well, I wonder _why,”_ Apollo’s head immediately shot up in either alarm or defense, and he stiffened, the phone’s glow temporarily going dim before flashing back on again. He stalled to respond, mouth opening and closing as he was no doubt searching his tumultuous teenage mind for the most generic excuse possible.

“Huh? No--I was just--” He held up his phone, which flashed a third time as a text alert popped up on screen. “I was talking to Athena--she was just asking about the History exam--”

“And I’m sure it's a very riveting conversation, but I’m afraid you’re gonna have to finish it later.” Once more Miles found himself having to wrestle the spork away from Trucy and stuck it back in its bowl. “No phones allowed at the table, remember?”

“What? Since when was that a rule--”

“Uh, let me see. Since the day you asked for a phone?” Chuckling, Miles sat the bowl down on Trucy’s high chair long enough to adjust his glasses. “I believe your staying off it at dinnertime was part of the agreement, yes? And I’d appreciate it if you could manage sticking to that bargain longer than two minutes for once.”

Kay snickered and Apollo grumbled, typing in one last quick text before shoving his phone into his pocket and picking his fork back up. 

“Agreement...bargain...what bullcrap, I don’t remember agreeing to anything...” He muttered, stirring around the peas on his plate. “How come I’m the only one at fault here, Dad uses his phone at the table all the time and you never get mad at _him._ ” 

“Well he _shouldn’t. He_ should know better, I’d think. Right?” 

One more glance around the table, this time to where Phoenix was seated at its head, hunched over his own cellphone while absent-mindedly holding a steak knife in one hand. It only took a loud throat clearing from his husband for the phone to drop back to the table. 

“Right, yeah. Absolutely, whatever you said.” Phoenix picked back up his fork, resuming cutting his steak like he hadn’t just been caught red handed. “Listen to your father, Apollo, he knows what he’s talking about.”

Despite his agreeance though, it was clear he hadn’t been paying attention to the entire conversation, and while Miles could simply fault that for his having been on his phone, knew that that wasn’t the case. Even on the evenings where Phoenix wasn’t on his phone, he still seemed distracted most of the time, like he was far off in a world of his own instead of whatever scenario he was physically in. It hadn’t been so bad before, but lately it’d just started to get worse, and that wasn’t even mentioning the amount of time he was spending holed away in his den lately. 

Simply put, he was becoming more and more uninterested in anything that didn’t involve falling asleep in front of the television or watching old news reports from the glory days that he had saved on his computer. Miles couldn’t even remember the last time they’d done anything as a family, let alone a couple. Why, they hadn’t even had sex since…well, he couldn’t remember _when_ exactly, just that’d been awhile and that it was beside the point. 

The point was, time was a cruel mistress, and he didn’t think he liked the way it was treating his family. How had they gotten to this point already? He’d sworn things hadn’t been this terrible before, not with him having to constantly referee everyone into eating, God forbid getting them to interact with one another. 

Repressing a long sigh and the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose, Miles tautly pressed his lips together and went back to the difficult task of trying to get Trucy to eat her dinner. Still, she didn’t seem interested and this time, went as far as knocking the spork out of Miles’ hand, causing its serving of mashed peas to land in the perfect green splotch on his sweater. 

“Aaaand it sticks to landing!” Trucy giggled, Kay letting out a cheer from her side of the table. Apollo only rolled his eyes and kept eating, clearly still disgruntled at having to put his phone away. 

“Alright, that’s quite enough of that--” Gasping, Miles sat the bowl down and picked up his crumpled napkin from the table, quickly dabbing it at his clothes before a stain could form. “She’s never going to eat now if you keep cheering her on like this.”

“Like you were doing any better before?” He scoffed at the snarky remark from Apollo, who only shrugged at the look he’d shot his way and took another disinterested bite of his mashed potatoes. "Seriously, she's a baby. Why are you even trying to reason with her?"

“Yeah! You sounded like you were talking to Ms. Starr again, just like earlier--” Kay chimed in with a snort, but silenced almost immediately upon realizing what she’d said. She ducked her head and started picking at her peas again, although the eyebrow raise from Phoenix seemed to signal that he’d actually heard the last bit of that sentence despite his phone being back in his hand.

And he’d been looking at it, because of course he was. 

“Wait, what was that about Ms. Starr?” His brow creased, and he picked the steak knife back up, preparing to cut off another piece of his steak. “Who was talking to Ms. Starr?”

“Nothing--I mean, no one! I didn’t say anything--”

“I was.” Huffing, Miles picked the spork up from the floor, wiping it off with the napkin before placing it back into the bowl. “I talked to her, this afternoon in the principal’s office.”

Phoenix’s brow further creased at this, and he kept cutting at his steak.

“What? Why, what happened?”

“Nothing!”

“Kay, please.” Two words, that’s all it took, plus their tone, and Kay quieted down and shrunk back in her seat. “I didn’t want to talk about it until after dinner, but seeing as _someone_ inadvertently brought it up…”

He didn’t even have to look at Kay to know she’d slumped down even further. 

“Kay got in trouble in class. Again. Not only that, but Ms. Starr was threatening her with detention this time.” 

“Detention?” He was cutting off another piece of steak now, a larger one. “Seems a bit...harsh, why would...”

“Because, she was making paper balls from her notebook paper and throwing them across the room.” Miles eyed Kay, who indeed was slumped down in her seat. “ _And_ catching them.”

“...catching them?” 

“Yes. Only...she missed that time.” 

“Who cares, I told you I didn’t do it on purpose.” Kay muttered, arms crossed. 

“And I told you that didn’t matter, someone could’ve seen you--”

“But they didn’t! Nobody did, not even Sebastian, and he was looking up!”

“Kay--”

“Wait, hang on. Hang on I just--” Still cutting at his steak, Phoenix looked Kay’s way. “Let me get this straight, someone was looking but they didn’t even see you? How could they not have seen you--unless-- _oh._ Oh!”

He leaned closer, a surprised smile forming on his face. Still cutting the steak, and the knife was moving dangerously fast. 

“Wait I get it--I think--man, you must’ve been _buzzing,_ I mean how fast do you think you were going this time?”

At this, Kay perked back up in her seat, grin spreading ear to ear. 

“Really fast, I don’t even think the cameras saw me--”

“Now wait just a minute here, we’re not going to treat this like it's a _positive_ thing!” protested Miles, not even noticing that Trucy had stolen the spork for yet the third time this evening. “Please, Phoenix, this is serious. Think if someone had actually seen her--”

“Hey, don’t worry about it, if she said no one saw her then--”

_“Phoenix!”_

A crack. Two separate thuds, as two separate halves of Phoenix’s plate fell apart. The steak sat barely cut amongst them, the knife embedded into the wood of the table, the handle halfway crushed in Phoenix’s grasp. It took a moment for the reality of the situation to process, any previous noise at the table now overtaken by an awkward wave of silence.

Sitting back in his seat, Phoenix let the knife go -- although it didn’t exactly drop back into place given the current circumstances -- and let out a long, heavy sigh, facepalming. 

“Right, of course. It figures…first the laundry machine falls apart...” he muttered under his breath, then shook his head, pushing his chair back. “Then the car, now this. It's just one thing after another today, isn’t it…”

“The car? Dare I even ask what happened…?” Miles eyed him warily from the other side of the table but was only met with a slight shrug as he stood up. 

“No. I don’t think you should.” Standing up, Phoenix pulled the bent knife free from the table. “I’m just...gonna go replace these, I’ll be right back.”

With that he headed off to the kitchen, slumped posture and all. Concerned as he now was about the car, Miles decided that that was a conversation better left for another day and would rather go about trying to actually eat his _own_ food for the first time tonight. Trying to get Trucy to finish off her peas right now was more akin to fighting a losing game and after the way that last conversation had gone, he wanted to at least get a few bites of his dinner before things went south again. 

“See, even Dad didn't think it was that big of a deal..." Cutting off a piece of his meatloaf, he looked out of the corner of his eye at Kay to see her poking around at her plate. "I dunno why you keep acting like it was.

“And you know exactly why," A _clack_ and squall from Trucy alerted Miles into looking over and seeing that she’d dropped the spork back onto the floor. “But we're not going to go into that again. Not right now anyways, so just worry about finishing your dinner. Peas included." 

A groan from Kay and Miles reached down to pick the spork back up, in the process noticing an Apollo, who, while no longer distracted by his phone, still had a very full plate of food. Only the mashed potatoes seemed halfway eaten, and now he was just quietly mulling about with his peas. 

Very quietly, on top of that, which was unusual for even him, but not unexpected. A while back he might’ve been just as talkative as Kay, twice as louder if that were even possible, but ever since their recent move he’d become just as disinterested and sullen about everything. Not quite the same way as Phoenix had been lately, moreso in the “brooding teenager” sense of way. 

Even so, that didn’t make it any less concerning.

“Apollo?” 

His head darted back up, but he barely glanced towards Miles. 

“Uh huh, yeah? Everything’s fine, Papa.”

_Like father, like son._

“Erm, I didn’t ask, but I appreciate the attempt at honesty, even if it was flimsy.” Mentally marking this as yet another dollar he would’ve earned for not sighing, Miles set the spork back onto Trucy’s high chair, where she promptly snatched it back up and started banging it against the tray. 

“Attempt--oh, no. No, it wasn’t an attempt--everything’s fine, really. I’m fine, school was fine. That about cover all your questions?”

“Perhaps, maybe. I was just wondering, since you’ve hardly touched your food and all.”

“Oh, .um...” Shaking his head, Apollo went right back to playing with his peas, scraping away the few that’d rolled right into his mashed potatoes. “Yeah, sorry. I guess I’m just not really all that hungry tonight. At least, not for steak and peas, that is.”

“Well, it isn’t like you’re without options.” Seizing the spork away from Trucy for perhaps the millionth time tonight, Miles wiped it off and placed it back in her bowl, which he picked back up. “Everything that was about to go bad is right here on the table or in the kitchen, just take your pick. Whatever you’re interested in.”

“More like whoever he’s interested in.” Kay snickered between bites of her meatloaf, and this was enough to snap Apollo right back from his downward glancing. 

“What--no! I’m not interested in anybody--I mean anything--no, wait--” He shot a glare his sister’s way. Face immediately going red as his eyes widened, grip on his fork tightening. “I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about, really--”

“Oh sure, and I didn’t see you stalking Klavier Gavin in the grocery store yesterday--”

“Oh my god, what? No! No, I wasn’t _stalking_ him--I mean--”

“Yes you were! Papa--”

The light above them rattled from the weight of their combined voices, going back and forth faster than Miles could keep up to intervene. Alright universe, this was not what he had meant when he was wishing for some livelihood at dinnertime. The arguing and possibility of a food fight were only examples, not what he really wanted to happen, damnit.

“Both of you, enough of that!” 

At last they settled down, only because they knew better than to keep going once Papa had raised his voice to that extent. It’d not gotten so to where he’d had to stand up, and he wasn’t about to risk slamming his hands on this thing after the sizable dent Phoenix had worked into it. Speaking of Phoenix, what was taking him so long to get back from the kitchen? Distracted by his phone again, probably, god that man...

“This is the dinner table, we do not shout here. We eat our food, and we act like civilized people. Do I make myself clear?”

Both children nodded begrudgingly, and for a moment, it seemed like everything was about to calm down. Apollo went back to picking at his peas, Miles cutting off and eating a piece of his meatloaf before trying to feed Trucy again. Kay picked up her water glass, and took a long, silent sip from it, while also very non-discreetly eyeing her brother. 

“I bet he’d be interested if Klavier were the leftovers…”

Apollo’s head shot up, and he only momentarily glared at Kay before dropping his fork to the table with a very loud, and very resounding _clang._

That was it. 

That was all it took for things to escalate from their prior state of calm to absolute madness. 

“Alright, that’s it--” 

Before Miles even knew what was happening, Apollo and Kay had both gotten out of their chairs, the latter ducking and running as Apollo dove to grab her, promptly face planting onto the floor. He recovered, getting back up to make a second attempt but once again missing as Kay sped out of the way.

“Stop moving!”

“Just try and keep up--”

Only bits and pieces of what they were saying was audible, in between Apollo trying to keep up with Kay, who was running rapid circles around the table. Trucy laughed and clapped, clearly entertained by the unfolding chaos while Miles kicked his seat back and stood up, trying to get several words in edgewise but such efforts were only vain. He couldn’t even hear himself say or think anything, and he was sure everyone in the neighborhood could hear them by now -- so it was beyond him how Phoenix still hadn’t returned from the kitchen to see what was going on.

Again, this was not what he’d meant when he’d wished for less quiet at dinnertime. 

Apollo stopped giving chase suddenly, stopping behind what was formerly Kay’s seat. His fists clenched, and without warning, he opened his mouth, a long, winding yell escaping it alongside a large flash of staticy red which directly hit Kay -- alongside several chairs, plants, and vases -- and sent her toppling to the ground. Groaning, she sat up, her hair now a disheveled mess and skid marks on her face.

“Hey, no sonic screaming! That’s cheating!” She scowled at Apollo, who smugly crossed his arms.

“So? You cheated first, I was just evening the score.”

“I was _not_ cheating!”

“Yes you were!”

Kay’s face scrunched up in annoyance, scrambling back to her feet and looking fully prepared to tackle her brother. Or she would have, if Miles hadn’t outstretched his arm and snatched her, forcefully trying to get her back into her seat.

“Alright, that’s enough--both of you, sit back down right now--” He did the same to Apollo, but just like his attempts at intervening before, this ultimately proved to be pointless as both children just dove for each other underneath the table, yanking their poor father’s arms down even further. 

His hands now almost quite literally tied, Miles was unable to do anything except remain pulled towards the table, while both Apollo and Kay were doing God knows what underneath it. It was only after he’d repeatedly shouted for Phoenix twice did he finally come back into the room, and as expected, was carrying his phone with him. 

He and Miles’ eyes met, almost instantly, one with a look of questioning and the other very pissed off and not willing to explain what was happening since it was visually obvious, and that he’d appreciate it if his husband wouldn’t just stand there like a deer in the headlights.

That’s all that was needed. Phoenix tossed his phone aside and approached the table, first kneeling to look underneath it and trying to get the kids to break it up. 

“Okay you two, give it a rest. It doesn’t matter who started it--” What must’ve been an unintentional sonic yell meant for Kay knocked Phoenix back from the table, and he stood back up with a huff. He glanced at Miles, whose face was mere inches from being slammed into his plate of food that was miraculously somehow still on the table. 

“Huh. So much for that.”

“What do you mean _so much for that?_ My God, Phoenix--” Another tug at his arms and Miles grunted. “Don’t just call it a day, do something for Christ’s sake!”

“But I _just_ did something!”

“Then do something else, anything! Dammit Apollo, let go of your sister--”

“Oh, anything huh? Alright then--”

A full second later he was back at the table, only this time, he’d grabbed it, lifting it, Miles, and both the kids all together into the air. Even this did little to help out, and things remained in a state of chaos for another whole minute. Squabbling from the kids, who were tangled up, biting and kicking. Scolding from Miles, shouts from Phoenix who was proclaiming that he was “doing something else”, and more laughter from Trucy, who was waving her arms around in the air in sheer delight.

It wasn’t until the doorbell rang did this all come to a sudden, but mercifully abrupt stop. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof, guess that's one steak cutting party that didn't end too well. 
> 
> Also hi, this fic isn't dead...and surprisingly, neither am I. I'm pretty much done with my (last!! I'm graduating!!!) school semester so I hope my brain will finally let me get back to writing now, because I've sincerely missed writing this stupid thing and I have EVERY intention of finishing it, believe me. On another note, thank you all so much for bearing with my terrible updating schedule lmao, hopefully you won't have to wait another several months for another update. 
> 
> As always, leave a comment and/or kudos if you enjoyed!


	5. (Not) A Big Deal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day ends with Maya and Phoenix reminiscing about days gone by as they also ponder their places in a post-superhero world, and Phoenix finding himself unable to resist the temptations of acting on his Super impulses -- an action that not only results in a marital argument back at home, but one that also catches the attention of prying eyes...

It took a second ring of the doorbell for everyone to assume their previous positions. 

Almost simultaneously, all of the family -- minus Trucy, who was still quite content in her high chair, dropped back into their seats, having to reposition themselves like they  _ hadn’t  _ just engaged in the Edgeworth-Wright family equivalent of World War III. Several more doorbell rings and a knock at the door resulted in Miles urging someone to go answer it, that someone being Kay who readily volunteered, no doubt not wanting to be caught up in the rushed clean up that was about to ensue. 

Just like clockwork, everything went back to the way it’d been before -- albeit, a little more sloppily than they’d been in their prior state. The table was set back on the ground, all scattered cups and plates were sat back in their former places, returning the room to something more presentable to the human eye. 

Or at least, that was as good as it was going to get. 

Anything like vacuuming and sweeping up the bits of food that had fallen to the floor was going to have to wait until later, much as it absolutely pained Miles to have a guest in his home while there was still a mess in the room. He suddenly found himself grateful that he’d forgotten to change the lightbulbs out today, maybe it’d be just dim enough in here that nobody would notice.

“--Aunt Maya! Hi!”

Miles briefly looked over towards the sound of Kay’s ecstatic voice echoing from the front entryway of the house, before turning back and noticing that the ceiling lamp had been knocked crooked amidst the chaos. He quickly reached up to readjust it before she came running back into the room, dragging a barely-keeping-up-with-her yet exuberant Maya Fey in behind her. 

“Easy there kiddo, you’ll pull my arm off if you’re not careful.” She chuckled, the two coming to a stop besides the table. “See, I have bones that are actually, and I might add -- incredibly breakable, unlike your papa here, who you could totally drag around by the arm without consequence if you wanted. Not that I’m advising you do that, of course.” 

She flashed a joking grin and wink at Miles, who scoffed. 

“And  _ I’m _ advising you to quit encouraging my daughter to misbehave, thank you very much.”

Maya let out an exaggerated gasp, a faux look of shock on her face. 

“Why Mr. Edgeworth, I’m hurt. Truly.” She pouted, Kay snickering as she headed back to her chair and along the way, indiscreetly picked up the one butter knife someone had apparently missed during the hurried cleanup detail. “Do I seriously seem like the kind of person who’d do that?”

“Let’s see, in the time that I’ve had the pleasure of knowing you?” Miles hummed. “Indeed, I’d say that there’s a strong possibility.”

“Wow. Unbelievable. Is that how you treat your guests around here?” 

“When they’re actively encouraging nonsense, yes.” 

“Me, encouraging nonsense? What a ridiculous accusation.” Maya huffed and glanced over to Phoenix. “Come on Nick, are you gonna back me up or what?”

Phoenix glanced up, not from his phone this time but from where he’d been gingerly eyeing the crack in the table left by his steak knife, only now it seemed like it’d gotten worse due to the occurence of a certain preliminary event. 

“Uh, I dunno, Maya. I mean it kind of sounded like a vague encouragement to me…”

“It wasn’t an encouragement! In fact I was actively warning her against it, Trucy can back me up on that. Right, Truce?” 

She turned towards Trucy, who slapped her hands against her high chair, happily babbling in agreement. 

“See? I’m innocent, trial’s over.” Grinning, Maya looked back to the others. “And since it's over, I believe that it's high time we made our exit. We meaning you and I, Nick, if you’re ready.”

“Huh, oh yeah. Totally ready, sure just--” Phoenix pushed his chair back, getting up from the table. “Just let me go get my jacket really quick--and my shoes, actually I left both of them in the den, give me one second…”

He headed out of the dining room and down the adjacent hall, assumably going to retrieve both afore-mentioned items, while Maya rolled her eyes, arms crossed. 

“If that’s his idea of being ready, I’d hate to see how long it takes for you guys to pack for a vacation.” 

“Well firstly, you’re not missing much. Believe me.” sighed Miles, cutting off another piece of his meatloaf, though he didn’t directly take a bite from it. “Secondly, did I miss out on something? I mean, where are you two even going at this hour?”

“Um, it's Tuesday? Tuesdays are burger night, remember?”

“Burgers? Now?” Miles looked over as Phoenix reemerged from the hall, slipping on a worn jacket that looked like it hadn’t been washed in weeks. “You just had dinner, and besides--”

“--I promised I’d cut back, I know. Believe me I know.” Phoenix zipped up his jacket and grabbed his phone up from where he’d dropped it earlier. “All I plan on getting is a milkshake, I swear. That’s it.”

“Actually he’s not, he’s thinking about getting fries as well.” Maya quipped, earning a yelp from Phoenix, who immediately disguised said-yelp as a bothered chuckle, shaking his head as Miles raised an eyebrow at him. 

“Uh huh, nah. She’s kidding. That is absolutely _ not _ what’s on my mind right now.” 

“And yet somehow I’m unconvinced.” 

“Same here.” Kay added, back to picking around the peas on her plate. 

“And here.” A third and fourth agreement from both Apollo and Trucy, though the latter was nonverbal gibberish -- as one would expect from a child her age. 

“Ouch, alright. Everyone just gang up on me all at once, why don’t you.” Phoenix gave his phone a quick look over before slipping it into his pocket, then proceeded to head over to the other side of the table, stooping to give his husband a quick kiss.

“I’ll be back later, dunno when. Don’t bother waiting up for me, okay?”

“Hm. No promises.” Miles hummed, cutting off yet another piece of his food, this time taking a bite of it. “Oh Maya, do tell Pearl I said hello, will you?”

“Absolutely, you got it.” Maya gave a thumbs up, before turning to head out of the room with Phoenix. “Actually she said to say the same thing to you, but since I’m leaving now I guess I can’t….uh, anyways, we’ll be seeing you guys on Saturday for game night, right?”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“Awesome. Great.” The front door opened and the two of them stepped out, Miles watching as they went. “Until then, I bid you all goodnight. Remember kids, stay in school and don’t do drugs--”

“Maya, come on--”

The door shut, Phoenix and Maya’s voices muffled and growing fainter as they walked away from the house. A wave of quiet fell over the dining room, not even the fork scraping ambience seemed like it was about to make a return. Miles looked back around, first glancing at Apollo, then Kay, who met his sharp gaze with an innocuous smile.

“Well, that could’ve been a lot worse than it was.” He went back to cutting off more of his food, but kept watch from the corner of his eye. Next to him, Trucy had finally begun to show an interest in her food and had dipped her fingers into the bowl, curiously poking around at the mashed peas inside. 

“But it also could’ve been a lot better. In fact, if certain people had just settled down when I’d told them to, then maybe we would’ve had a clean floor for our guest to walk on.”

“Hey, no, you can’t just blame me--” Apollo started, but Kay was quick to interject. 

“--it wasn’t my fault either, he started it!”

“I don’t care who started it, and it also doesn’t matter.” Miles plainly stated. “What matters is that both of you were involved, so don’t think either of you are exempt from this matter. I suppose I’ll just have to add it to the long list of things I have to discuss with your father later--and yes, Kay, that still includes your visit to the office.”

“What? But why, he already said it wasn’t a big deal!” Kay huffed, dropping back against her seat. “Seriously, it's not like I’m not the only kid in the world who gets sent to the office…”

“True, but you  _ are _ part of the minority with superpowers, which makes your office visits all the more risky. Now, I know you’re still upset, but it's absolutely normal--”

“Normal?  _ You’re  _ talking about what’s normal?” Apollo curtly chortled from his seat, dropping his fork to not the table this time, but his plate. Rather loudly too on top of that. “I’m sorry, but what do you actually know about normal--shit, what does  _ anyone _ in this family know about it?”

“Apollo, language--”

“Like all we do is pretend to be normal, but that doesn’t mean we are!” He continued on, ignoring Miles’ protest of his vulgarity. “If we were normal we wouldn’t have to move around so much, I wouldn’t have to keep worrying about being uprooted from my friends.  _ And  _ I wouldn’t have to worry if someone was gonna spot me using my powers in school, only Trucy can do that and she’s not even old enough for school yet!”

At the mention of her name, Trucy waved her pea-covered hands around in the air, blowing spit bubbles and giggling. Miles pinched the bridge of his nose, repressing yet another sigh.

“I, hm--I mean yes, that’s true. But even then, it's not like she won’t have any troubles of her own to worry about once she is--”

“Yeah? I’d gladly take whatever those troubles are over having powers.” Apollo scooted his chair back, picking up his plate and glass after standing up. “At least then I wouldn’t have to pretend to be something I’m not.” 

Before Miles could think of a response, of anything to say or to do that wouldn’t otherwise result in further argument, Apollo had left the dining room, dishes clanking loudly as they were dropped in the sink and footsteps pounding heavily down the hall, followed by his bedroom door slamming shut.

* * *

“--and then, just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, there I was. Face to face with Doctor Destructo himself--”

It was these meager bits and pieces of conversation that Phoenix picked up on, but was otherwise not paying attention to. He stayed slouch over, staring down into his milkshake while Maya continued on, freely but not loudly talking about one of her past exploits as the formerly famed Mystigirl. Anywhere else it might’ve been a risky move to talk about these things in public, but at nearly eight-thirty at night, their usual meeting spot of a rundown old burger joint was practically empty -- save for them, the late night skeleton crew, and the one woman who was seated alone in the back, focused on whatever it was that she was doing on her laptop. 

It was because she seemed to be so focused and the employees were preoccupied with taking drive-thru orders that gave them the luxury to freely reminiscence, and had been doing so for the past hour and a half. Or at least, Maya had been doing so, as somewhere along the line Phoenix had found himself completely zoning out of their conversation. 

He hadn’t meant to and it certainly wasn’t intentional, but with the long day he’d had catching up to him and the article about Armando’s disappearance simmering in his mind, it’d become very hard to pay attention to anything that was being said or done around him. In the brief moments he’d tried, he just couldn’t bring himself to try responding, let alone finish his milkshake. 

In hindsight, perhaps ordering a large might’ve been a mistake. 

With everything that’d been going on such a treat was both warranted and needed in his eyes, but he also hadn’t counted on suddenly losing the will to do much of anything halfway through drinking it. It’d degraded to a pile of half-melted slush in the time he’d stopped, so much so that the colorful candy bits inside had melted and mixed with the ice cream. Purples with pinks, greens with yellows, reds with blues...blue like his suit, his suit that was locked away in a glass case, never to be worn again, and all because--

“--am I right? Nick?”

He jolted, tearing his eyes away from the swirling vortex of forming colors and glanced up to see Maya taking another huge bite from her monster-sized burger. 

“Huh? Oh, yeah. You’re totally right, absolutely. ” 

Blinking, Phoenix sat back up, trying to sound like he hadn’t just missed half of what she’d been saying. When he would figure out this was something he was evidently not skilled in was dubious, anyone with enough sense could figure out he hadn’t been listening and would have picked up on it immediately. This seemed to be exactly what Maya had done, going off of the disputable expression she was now giving him.

“Am I, though?” she questioned him, placing her burger back onto the tray. “You were weirdly quick to agree, did you even hear what I said?”

“Psh--yeah, of course I did.” Phoenix grabbed his shake, pulling it close enough to take a sip out of. When he’d last taken a sip he had no idea, but he might as well try and finish since he’d paid three dollars for it. “You were saying something about uh, Doctor uh….hm…Doctor Demolition?”

“Doctor Destructo, Nick.”

“Right, that guy. Remind me, was he the one who blew up banks or…”

“No, that was Mad Bomber. Doctor Destructo was the one who could destroy bridges with one punch.”

“Oh, right. Right, yeah, my bad.” Phoenix shuddered and swallowed hard, forcing down the soupy mouthful of shake he’d drank before it came back up. “Sorry, it's just that all these names and faces...well, these guys just kinda blend together after a while, you know? And it's been so long...”

He went quiet, taking another quiet drink from his milkshake and once again forcing it down. Maya nodded slowly, solemnly. 

“Yeah...yeah it has.” She said, and just as solemnly, too solemn for even her. A silent minute passed, her finishing off her burger while Phoenix continued to take slow, steady sips of his shake. Maya stole glances at him, looking like she wanted so badly to say something but wasn’t sure how to word it. Her first try was met with an interruption of a car engine revving up outside, the second almost thwarted by the woman at the back, who’d gotten up and was walking past them, hastily shoving her laptop back into the oversized bag she was carrying.

The third attempt was met with success, although Maya’s voice was decidedly lower and she’d leaned forward, arms crossed. 

“Hey. Are you sure you’re doing okay?” Phoenix met her eyes, which were heavy with concen. Not the first time he’d seen that look from her since they’d met again and it certainly wasn’t going to be the last. “I mean, I know I asked you that earlier but…”

“But what? I gave you my answer, didn’t I?” 

“You gave me  _ an  _ answer. Not exactly a truthful one, though.” She paused, waiting while some other customers who’d just entered passed them by. “And you’ve zoned out  _ twice  _ in the whole time that we’ve been here, forgive me if I just want to know what’s up.”

Phoenix glanced away, slouching back in his seat with a huff.

“Like I need to say anything, why don’t you just see for yourself?”

“I tried. Several times, in fact.” Maya sat back and uncrossed her arms long enough to snatch up a fry from her tray. “But there’s too much going on in there for me to really decipher anything, which is why I’m asking you.” She snatched up another fry, popping into her mouth with the first. “Plus, I hear it helps to actually say this kinda stuff out loud so…”

“I...huh, I don’t know what kinda stuff you mean. It's not like anything’s changed...” Phoenix let out a heavy sigh. “Nah, just the same old bitter thoughts about my job, same old regrets and wondering where I went wrong. I just…”

He shifted, turning his head to look out the window, which was covered in the remnants of rain drops from an earlier rainstorm. 

“I don’t see the point in it anymore, Maya. I hate all of it, all this pretending and--and sucking up to people who treat me like I’m dispensable. And for what?” He chuckled, more sourly than he’d meant to. “Just so they don’t give me any recognition for it? Just so I don’t get any reward? God, if only they knew who I really was, I’d just--”

“You’d do nothing, because you’re retired. All of us are.” Maya wisely reminded him, earning a snort of contempt in return. “And besides, it's been over fifteen years. It’s not like you can do much about it now.” 

“But what if I could--”

“You won’t. You know what’ll happen if you do.” 

A long time ago, Maya wouldn’t have been the voice of reason in this scenario, yet here she was, and sounding deadly serious too on top of that. Granted she had every bit of a reason to, the Edgeworth-Wrights were practically family to her and her cousin -- come to think of it, they were really the only family the two had left. To lose them as well would be too difficult of a blow for them to deal with, giving Phoenix further reason to not try anything stupid.

And he was trying. By God was he ever trying, but it's not like it was getting any easier. 

“Yeah...yeah, I know. I’m sorry. I am, it's just...things are so hard now. Even if it's been a long time...I don’t know, civilian life isn’t something you can just easily adjust to…”

“Well yeah, you’re not wrong. I doubt you’re the only Super who feels that way though--” Another pair of customers entered, passed them by and Maya paused again before continuing, voice lowered and inquiring.

“You wouldn’t happen to remember the Red Masque, would you?”

“Yeah, actually, I just saw something about him in the news. Something about him going missing, I think. Why’d you ask?”

“Because I saw him. A couple of weeks back, before he disappeared.” Maya dropped her voice even lower, as the customers who’d entered had for some reason decided to take a seat close to them. “He showed up at the store a few minutes before closing time, didn’t even recognize him until he started talking to me.”

“Talking to you? About what?”

“Nothing weird, not at first anyway. But then... he kind of just, I dunno, started talking about Supers, and like, how their time was coming soon and that they’d get to rise up again…I didn’t think much of it, I just thought he was spewing some kind of his usual fake deep bullshit again. But now, he’s missing and I just...can’t help but wonder...

She trailed off, halfly shrugging. 

“I dunno, maybe it's a coincidence, but that’s beside my point. My point is, I just don’t want to see you ending up like him, God knows you’re getting dangerously close.”

“And exactly how am I getting dangerously close? I mean, I know we’ve had to move twice already but I wouldn’t exactly call that  _ dangerously  _ close…or maybe...shit...” Phoenix sat back up, not even daring to drink anymore of his milkshake. What he had drunk already was currently souring in his stomach and he didn’t think he could manage much more. “ I don’t know, I mean it isn’t like I’m not trying…heh, I even threw out my old police scanners so I wouldn’t be tempted to listen to them anymore, but even  _ that’s _ not enough. Like I  _ have  _ to physically be out there, fighting crime or else…” 

He buried his face in his hands, groaning.

“God, I just don’t know what to do anymore.”

“Is there really much you  _ can _ do?” Maya questioned. “Nah, you just gotta keep doing what you’ve been doing already.”

“Which is…” 

“Putting on a brave face, taking care of your family.” She picked up a long fry from her tray, breaking it in half. “It's the only option you’ve got left, the only option any of us have. At least for now, so we might as well make the most of it.”

Phoenix remained wordless at this, only nodding soberly. He dared to take one more slow sip of his shake, Maya concernedly eyeing him without another word. After a moment, she sat back up, hands clapping together. 

“But in the meantime though, let’s get back to the task at hand, shall we?” she said, hands remaining clasped, she put on a bright smile, trying to sound as cheerful as was possible given the circumstances. “Which is actually trying to have a good time tonight, since y’know, that’s kinda the whole point of these meetups. More adventure, less brooding I always say.”

She tossed her remaining fries into the paper bag next to her tray, grabbing both these things while sliding out of her seat. 

“Come Nick, off to our next destination. The cinema awaits!”

“The cinema?” Phoenix glanced up at her in confusion. “That’s seriously your idea of adventure?”

“Hey, anything’s an adventure once you’re past your twenties. Besides, if we leave now, we might be able to catch the last showing of the new Steel Samurai movie.” 

“But...huh, didn’t we _ just _ go see it last week?”

“Yeah, and?” Maya picked up her wallet from the table as well, sliding that into her coat pocket. “No harm in seeing it twice. Now come on, what do you say?”

Well, under any other circumstance Phoenix might’ve said no. He wasn’t keen on paying to see the same movie repeatedly, and wanted to remind Maya that it’d been  _ more  _ than two times that they’d gone to see it lately...but, he also didn’t want to come home so early, and definitely not in this kind of downcast mood that he was in now. He wanted to avoid any possibility of having to discuss  _ why  _ he was in said mood, and after all, he could only give the  _ “I’m tired” _ excuse so many times before it got too old. 

Which it had. It’d gotten old a long time ago, because that’s how much he’d used it. 

That fact alone being the only reason he said yes, and why he soon found himself and Maya pulling into the movie theatre parking lot. Once she’d parked and they both got out, she handed off their collective trash from the burger joint for him to go throw away, while she went to go buy their tickets. 

To Phoenix’s utter chagrin, his arrival to the nearest trash can saw it stuffed to the brim with the snacks of past movie patrons, as were most of the closest cans. Once he eventually did find one that was semi-empty, he’d journeyed to the far end of the lot, far away from the car and far away from the theatre, so much so that he was practically standing on the street. Dropping both bags inside, he placed both hands back into his pockets and began the tedious trek back through the theatre, shoulders hunched and head lowered. 

It was the flash of something shiny and the brief, abrupt scream that led him to assuming a more upright position, and he looked around, back to the street where a young woman was struggling to free herself from a darkly-clad man. A kick to his shins seemed to have aided her, only she stumbled right into a street post and fell to the sidewalk, the man seizing this as his chance to whip out the shiny object Phoenix had spotted just a moment prior.

An object that, from what he could see, was a handgun. A choice weapon for a typical thug, he would’ve expected nothing less after the amount of these guys he’d handled. They were the easier fare to take down, just a few dodges here and there, some ducking and then punches to the face, why it was a job he could do with his eyes closed if you let him. 

_ If the government would let him.  _

Phoenix let out a low grunt, suddenly overtaken with a fit of frustration. One part of his mind urged him to turn around, to continue his journey back to the theatre and let someone else notice what was going on, while the other part...the other part said fuck it, that it couldn’t leave this woman behind to be assaulted and robbed like this.  _ He  _ couldn’t, not when he was presently here and could do something about it. 

What  _ could _ he do, though? Or more precisely, what could he do that wouldn’t get him in trouble, or put his family at risk of having to move again? He supposed he could just sulk off and quietly call the police, but it would be too late then. That man would be long gone and the woman would be badly injured, maybe even worse. He couldn’t let that happen, he wouldn’t. Not in good conscience. 

There was a buzz from his pocket, from his phone, most likely a text from Maya wondering what was taking him so long, but he ignored it. Stepping back onto the sidewalk, he reached back and pulled his hood over his head, beginning his approach towards the thug, who currently had his gun concentrated on the woman, who at his command had begun to empty out her handbag.

“Hey--” Was the only word Phoenix managed, coming short of saying one of his usual quips, when the startled thug suddenly turned his gun on him, firing off a bullet that went straight through his arm. The pain was brief, searing, and Phoenix hissed, grabbing at his arm briefly before turning his focus back to the dumbfounded man in front of him. 

“Oh, you just  _ had _ to do that, didn’t you?”

Another shot, this one narrowly grazing Phoenix’s leg. He moved quickly before a third shot could be fired, knocking the gun out of the man’s hands, and delivered a solid punch right into his face. A sickening crunch sounded, followed by a cry of agony, and the man stumbled back, hands wrapping around his now very broken and bleeding nose. He dove towards Phoenix with a decisive yell, toppling onto the ground as he stepped out of the way. One last desperate attempt was made to retrieve his gun, which ultimately failed as Phoenix picked it up, completely crushing it in his hands and tossing it into the trash can behind them. 

Eyes now widening, the man glanced between the can, and to Phoenix, taking several steps back. 

“Nuh uh. Nah. Fuck this…” 

Shaking his head, the man turned on his heel and took off, making what had probably been his best decision all night. Phoenix watched him go, relishing in that sort of gratifying victory that he didn’t often get to feel much anymore. He figured he could give chase, maybe subdue him, but after what he’d just done that might be pushing it a bit.

Instead he looked over at the woman, who’d been watching the entire altercation go down in silent shock, and hadn’t seemed to have moved much save for picking her handbag back up. 

“You alright? Did he hurt you?”

She shook her head.

“I...don’t think so, no…” 

“No? Okay, uh, that’s good…” More buzzing from his phone, likely another text from Maya, maybe Miles asking what time he was gonna be home. “Well um, in that case…”

He reached into his pocket to silence his phone, and turned to walk away. 

“Wait--” Several quick footsteps, and he looked back to see the woman following him, expression contorted in a mix of perplexity and concern. “Wait, what about you? You were shot, I--”

“I’ll be fine, Miss, really--”

“You were shot twice, don’t think I didn’t see it happen.” She pressed on and reached into her handbag, grabbing her own phone out. “Please, you helped me out, let me help you. Just give me a second and I’ll--”

She stopped talking unexpectedly, eyes glazing over before Phoenix could protest much further. Her phone went back into her bag, and she closed it, walking away without as much as another word. 

The explanation as to why, Phoenix should’ve figured, was standing behind him, hands on her hips and a questioning glare on her face.When the woman was out of sight, Phoenix opened his mouth, ready to try and come up with some sort of explanation, not getting the chance to before Maya had impatiently grabbed him by the arm and dragged him back through the parking lot and into the movie theatre. 

What they didn’t notice on the way, was the brief flash of light from a nearby car, a car in which sat the same woman from the restaurant. Her laptop sat open next to her in the passenger’s side, a full profile of Phoenix as Captain Indestructible displayed on screen side by side to the photo that’d just been unknowingly taken of him. A photo that, after a brief scan, proved to be a complete facial match to the other. 

_ “You’re absolutely certain you want to switch targets?” _

She adjusted the discreet earpiece hooked over her ear, looking up from the laptop over to where Maya and Phoenix had disappeared inside the theatre. 

“Yes, one hundred percent. He’s  _ definitely _ the one that she’s been looking for, I guarantee it.”

* * *

It was late by the time Phoenix had gotten back home. Very late. 

Upon Maya dropping him off, he very discreetly slipped his way into the backyard and moved along to the kitchen door, which unsurprisingly was locked, something he should’ve counted on seeing as all the lights in the house were off. A moment of fumbling with his house keys later and he was inside, easing into the kitchen whilst very quietly shutting and locking the door behind him. 

Aside from the moonlight streaming in from the outside, it was utterly pitch dark in the house, not surprising given the current time of twelve o’five. Thankfully they’d lived here long enough that he knew where and where not to step, lest he risk tripping straight into a counter, so navigating his way through wasn’t too much of a problem...at least, the not tripping over anything part, that was. His arm and leg, despite not hurting as much as they had been before, still stung like hell with each movement and would likely not be quelled until he got into bed and stopped moving altogether. 

Which he very much planned on doing, just after he finished the fudge brownie he’d snatched from the fridge. Likely not the best idea provided he was  _ supposed _ to be cutting back on all things sugar and calorie loaded -- he was sadly aware of the resolution he’d made at the beginning of the year to do so, but having not finished his milkshake combined with his not getting the chance to buy any movie snacks had left him wanting. And it wasn’t like anyone had to  _ know  _ he’d snuck a brownie, a lot of them looked to be eaten already so it was doubtful that anyone would notice just one more missing. 

Just like they wouldn’t have to know what he’d done tonight. 

It’d taken a lot of pleading with Maya to not immediately call and tell Miles what had happened, he’d even insisted he would willingly go see the same Steel Samurai movie with her again next week if she didn’t say anything. It was only when he’d agreed to pay for her popcorn did she finally agree, although she still seemed begrudging about it and made it  _ very  _ clear that this was a one time transaction, that if he as much set foot near any sort of crime again, she wouldn’t hesitate to snitch on him. 

Something he deserved, probably. He’d hated to bribe her like that, and he also didn’t feel good having to lie to Miles either, but what else could he do? Risk another possible argument, a lecture about why he had to be careful? 

No thanks, he’d had quite enough of those to last him a lifetime. 

Plus, it wasn’t like they were going to be in actual danger because of this -- he’d put his hood on for a reason, not to mention it’d been very dark out. And it wasn’t like the thief could report him to the police without also turning himself in, far as Phoenix was concerned, this was an absolute win.

What was not proving to be a win, though, was eating this brownie, because now he was thirsty, meaning he’d have to put off going to bed even further. Humming to himself, he opened the fridge back up, pushing aside several cartons of juice and other beverages until coming across a half-empty jug of milk, which he promptly popped the cap off of and poured into the glass he’d taken out from the cabinet. 

Taking a quick sip to satiate his thirst, Phoenix went to covertly place the jug back into the fridge, shutting the door right as the kitchen lights turned on without warning. 

He seized in place, just like a deer in the headlights -- only this deer had a milk mustache and brownie crumbs on his face, and in place of headlights stood a displeased Miles, dressed in his usual bedtime apparel of button-down pajamas and a soft wine-colored dressing gown. He looked at his husband with an incredibly unamused stare, the very one that Phoenix had been treated to many a time over the course of their marriage -- and relationship in general. 

“You’re back late.” he quipped.

“Didn’t uh...didn’t I say I’d be back late?” Using his sleeve (which inadvertently slid up in the process), Phoenix wiped away the milk mustache from his upper lip and finished off his brownie, all but shoving it into his mouth. 

“No, you said you’d be back  _ later _ . Later, with a hard r.” Miles’ stare hardened, his arms folding. “Pardon me for assuming that meant you’d be returning at a reasonable time.” 

“Well I mean--I was planning on it--” 

“Oh, you were  _ planning _ on it?” There it was, that accusatory tone that usually accompanied the stare. “What changed then, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Nothing changed, not really.” Phoenix spoke with his mouth full, crumbs flying everywhere. He swallowed hard, then downed the rest of his milk. “Maya just wanted to go see that new Steel Samurai movie again, you know, the one she insists on seeing literally every week? I’m sorry, I meant to let you know but we barely had enough time to get to our seats before the previews finished.”

“I--”

“And all that matters,” He tossed his now empty glass into the sink, wiping his mouth off a second time. “Is that I made it home safe, and in one unharmed piece, so there’s really not a point to any of this is there? Again, I’m sorry I didn’t text you, but honestly it's been a really long day and I’m tired, so--” 

He stepped forwards, first indifferently kissing his husband’s cheek and next trying to slip past him into the hall. 

“We can pick up this discussion -- with anything else that you uh, wanna discuss, in the morning. When I’m  _ not  _ tired.” 

“Wait. Just a moment.”

Only a few steps into the hallway, Phoenix was stopped by an outstretched arm snaking itself around his. He recoiled, but made no attempt to walk any further. This was a fruitless task when you were married to the human equivalent of a rubber band, and he’d learned from experience that it was better to stay put. 

And he did, waiting until Miles joined him in the hall, his arm slowly retracting back to its normal length as he caught up, and was now pulling up Phoenix’s jacket sleeve the rest of the way, to reveal the large bruise that he’d only previously had a sneak preview of. 

“Unharmed you say, hm. Would you care to explain this, then?” Miles glanced back up to Phoenix, his face creasing in question. 

Brain stalling, Phoenix flicked his eyes from his husband towards his now clearly evident bruise. Up until now hadn’t really bothered looking at it himself, the last he’d dared to had been back at the bathroom in the theatre, right after he’d been shot. Then it’d been hardly visible, now it’d blossomed into an ugly mixed shade of purple and blue, one that was quite hard to miss. 

“This….? Oh, it's uh…it’s nothing um, I just uh….I tripped. Yeah, in the parking lot at the theatre. Must’ve hit my arm on the curb or something.”

“You’re expecting me to believe that?” challenged Miles. “Oh come now, Phoenix, how long have we been married? You don’t think I can’t tell when you’re bluffing?”

“I’m not--”

“Yes, you are, don’t try to tell me otherwise. Because first off,” He stepped in front of Phoenix, who’d begun a second try at walking down the hall. “I know you don’t bruise that easily, not unless you’ve been shot. And secondly, I could smell the gun smoke on your clothes from the minute you stepped inside. The evidence is all there, there’s no point in lying about it.”

“ _ Evidence?  _ Seriously? What, am I on trial now suddenly?”

“That remains to be seen. Are you going to tell me what actually happened?”

“Nothing! Nothing--I mean--” Phoenix insisted and tugged his arm free from Miles, pulling his sleeve back down. “Alright, so maybe a little something happened, but it wasn’t like anyone really saw me--”

“Saw you? Doing what--Phoenix, I swear if you were listening to the police scanners again--”

“What? No! Come on, you were literally right next to me when I threw them out, how could I be listening to them if they’re in the trash?” Phoenix said. He tried to relax, look less stiff, less defensive. Not that it was going to help his case much, he was a dead man regardless of what he said or did next. “No, I--see, there was this woman, she was getting mugged and--I mean I was right there--”

“And what, that suddenly gave you the right to step in?” 

“I--yeah, what else was I supposed to do?”

“Anything. Anything other than whatever you did. You had your phone, you could’ve just called the police--”

“Why? Just so they could show up too late to do anything? For God’s sake, Miles, I saved a woman from losing her belongings, I saved her life, you don’t have to act like its some terrible thing--”

“Because it  _ is _ a terrible thing, Phoenix!” Miles snapped, the accusatory tone in his voice now replaced by one of exasperation. “That’s putting us at risk of moving again, and I can’t do that to the children right now. They should be focused on schoolwork, on friends, not worrying about having to suddenly pack up and flee in the middle of the night! It’s not fair to them!”

“You think I don’t know that? You don’t think I already feel guilty enough for the last time, because newsflash, I do! Even if it was an accident--”

“An accident, yes. Of course, because knocking down a whole building is considered  _ accidental _ .” 

“For the last time, I didn’t knock down the building, there was a faulty beam--” Phoenix tried to point out, only to falter at the cynical look Miles was giving him. “Look, I already told you no one saw me, okay? I put my hood on for a reason and besides, it was dark, so at the end of the day it’s not as big of a deal as you’re making it out to be.”

“Oh? Just like Kay using her powers in school wasn’t a big deal, either?” retorted Miles, huffing. “Honestly I really don’t understand it, how can you be so dismissive about these things? No, you weren’t noticed, neither was Kay, just not  _ this _ time. What about the next time, or what if someone really  _ had _ spotted you? That’s the point I’m trying to make here, why can’t either of you see it?”

“Hey, no, I  _ do _ see it, I just think you might be overreacting a bit--”

“ _I’m_ _overreacting?_ If anything, you’re clearly underreacting!” 

Miles was standing over Phoenix now -- quite literally almost, having stretched himself to match his risen voice. It was only at the thump of the coffee table that he dropped back down, he and Phoenix glancing over to the living room where a lamp was now wobbling in place, the aforementioned coffee table scooted sideways like someone had just bumped into it.

They shared a look, before glancing back. 

“Okay Apollo, we know you’re there.” Phoenix sighed. “Come on out.”

“Kay. You too.” Miles added.

It took a moment, then Kay poked her head out from behind an armchair, Apollo slowly standing up and rematerializing from behind the sofa. Both of them looked uncertain and really, who could blame them? Phoenix didn’t know how much of that discussion they’d heard or how long they’d been there -- really, they’d gotten so wrapped up in arguing that he hadn’t even realized just how loud things had gotten until now. 

“Come on, it’s okay. All the way out.” He prompted further, stepping over into the living room. 

“And perhaps tell us what you’re doing up.” Miles wasn’t far behind him, although he seemed to be standing as far apart from Phoenix as much as he could. “Don’t you know how late it is, you have school in the morning!” 

“We know, we just couldn’t sleep.” Kay said, sitting in the armchair that’d previously been her hiding spot. “You guys were being pretty loud so…”

“Yeah...we were, weren’t we…” Phoenix grimaced, looking to exchange another glance with Miles, except he didn’t return said-glance this time and remained stoically faced towards the children. “Sorry about that guys, Papa and I were just having a bit of a talk…”

“ _ That _ was talking?” Apollo dropped onto the sofa, tucking his knees underneath him.

“Yes. Yes, it was.” Phoenix leaned over and grabbed Miles’ hand to pull him closer, thankful (and somewhat surprised) that it didn’t immediately jerk away in response. Although, his returning grip did feel admittedly rigid. “We just uh...we got a bit carried away, but er, it’s fine. It’s okay, this stuff kind of...uh, it happens.”

“More than I’d like it to.” Miles muttered under his breath. Phoenix grimaced even further, gritting his teeth. 

“That’s not helping.”

“I didn’t mean for it to.” His grip grew twice as rigid, but he still didn’t look at him. “Anyway, we’re sorry we woke you two up. Like Dad said, everything is fine. You can go back to bed now.”

Now it was Kay and Apollo’s turn to share the glances with one another, looking just as uncertain and as unconvinced as they had before. Finally, they got up and began to head down the hall to their bedrooms, uttering  _ “goodnight” _ to both of their parents along the way. Once they were gone, Miles slipped his hand free of Phoenix’s, arms folding back over.

“That being said, I think we should all go to bed. Now.” He at last looked back at Phoenix upon saying this, remnants of anger and frustration from their argument still very evident in his eyes. If Phoenix needed a sign that that discussion was far from finished, that was it. 

They just wouldn’t be finishing it tonight. 

“Right, yeah. Bed.” Nodding, Phoenix reached back and rubbed at the nape of his neck. “Okay…”

Despite agreeing he didn’t move right away, staying awkwardly put where he was while Miles headed back over to the kitchen to turn the light off. It didn’t feel right, basically going to bed now after fighting like this. It never had, it never would. But at the same time, there was no way they were going to find a resolution to their argument without delving into shouting and blame-throwing again. Not that easily, nothing that simple, not when it’d been an argument they’d been having for the past two years. 

Still, Phoenix didn’t want to just leave without saying something else...except, what could he say? What did he dare to say, what was even left?

“Miles…” He started, his mind instantly drawing a blank. Miles looked back at him.

“Yes?”

“I…goodnight.”

“....goodnight, Phoenix.”

That was that, for tonight anyway. 

Phoenix shuffled into their bedroom, long enough to retrieve his pajamas and went to the bathroom to change, brush his teeth. During this, Miles’ footsteps padded past him to their bedroom, door shutting just as quickly as it opened. When Phoenix came to join him a few minutes later, he was already settled in bed, laying on his side, back turned and covers pulled all the way up to his face.

Try as he might, Phoenix just couldn’t get comfortable. He was used to being closer to Miles, having their backs pressed close or their arms wrapped around one another. But he knew there was going to be none of that tonight. Instead he was met with nothing but empty air, and a suffocating, unbearable silence that threatened to swallow him whole. 

This was why, after two hours of tossing and turning, he moved out to the living room and spent the rest of the night on the sofa. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I decided to take a bit of time off to enjoy the holidays, and now that they're all over, we're back in full swing over here! I am having the BEST time getting to work on this fic again so I hope y'all are ready for more updates 😊
> 
> As always, thank you all so much for reading and taking the time to leave comments/kudos, it means a lot to me and I appreciate each and every one of you for it! 💞


	6. Adventure Calling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His life starting to spiral beyond his liking, Phoenix is pushed into acting out what ends up being a very regrettable decision. However all may not be lost, as an unexpected discovery in opens up a new window of opportunity for the former Super...

One of two things woke Phoenix up the next morning -- the sound of chirping birds outside or the smell of freshly brewing coffee. 

Or maybe it was both. Either way he didn’t feel ready to get up.

Even though he’d retreated to the couch after tossing and turning in bed for a good couple of hours, he’d still found it difficult to get to sleep. Exhaustion meant nothing when he had a lot on his mind, besides that the couch wasn’t exactly the most comfortable place in the world -- for sitting maybe, but not for sleeping, that was for sure. He’d thought that perhaps having something to his back would help him get to sleep -- since he was all too used to being that close to Miles -- but it hadn’t, and thus it’d taken another few sleepless hours for him to finally drift off.

What time it was now, he didn’t know, just that it was finally daylight and that  _ someone _ must be up if coffee was already in the pot. He could also faintly smell -- and for that matter, hear sausages being cooked, alongside what might be pancakes? Or waffles -- he couldn’t really tell, couldn’t really be bothered to get up and look. His eyelids were still very heavy with sleep and his body resisted much movement, begging him to turn over and just go back to sleep. 

But he couldn’t. 

If breakfast was being cooked now, that meant he’d have to be leaving for work soon and he couldn’t afford to be late. Quite literally. Payne was practically itching for an excuse to deny him a pay raise or promotion, and he didn’t want to give him any more reason than he already had. So he’d have to get up eventually...well, maybe after five minutes more, that wasn’t so much that he wouldn’t have enough time to get dressed and eat...or get dressed and drink coffee, get something at the vending machine at work to eat instead...or get dressed and get both coffee and breakfast in the breakroom…

He mulled over all the possibilities as he rolled back over on his side, back against the couch and eyelids drooping shut again. No sooner had they shut did they pop back open, blinded by a sudden burst of sunlight streaming in through the windows. Letting out something that was a combination of both a hiss and a gasp, Phoenix shielded his eyes and sat up, glancing over to where Miles had just opened the curtains. 

He returned the glance, if only for a fleeting moment. Just long enough for Phoenix to catch the residual irritation flashing over his eyes, then promptly walked straight back into the kitchen without so much as a  _ “good morning”.  _ Phoenix knew he should’ve expected as much, after everything that had gone down the other night. He’d nearly forgotten about it until now, had chalked it up to nothing but a bad dream until he’d woken up on the couch, and everything had all come rushing back to him. 

For that, he got the feeling that this was going to be a rough day.

With great unsureness, he pulled back the throw blanket covering him and stood up from the couch, every bone and muscle in his body screeching in protest -- his arm and leg, not so much, since from what he could see, the bruising seemed to have healed overnight. Such were the perks of having a fast-healing gene, now if only it could have the same effect on marital arguments and strained relationships.

Phoenix slowly shuffled into the kitchen, Miles paying his entrance no mind. He stayed focused on pouring batter into the waffle maker -- confirming that it was indeed waffles and not pancakes like was previously thought, and kept his back turned, barely moving while Phoenix edged his way past him and opened the cabinets in search of a coffee mug, finding nothing but a few spare cups and glasses. He moved on to the next cabinet, still no luck. 

“If it's a mug you’re looking for, try the dishwasher.” He shut the drawer he was about to look in and glanced back to see Miles shutting the waffle maker, while also picking a spatula back up. “I did run it last night, not that you would know.”

The sourness in his voice was heavy, grating. Something else Phoenix should have expected, and had heard so often, but that didn’t mean he liked or was used to it. 

“Oh. Yeah, okay.” 

He went to open the dishwasher and sure enough, found several clean mugs waiting for him atop the upper rack. Grabbing the first one he spotted, he set it on the counter, pouring coffee into it and remained next to the counter, taking a long slow sip while involuntarily watching Miles turn over several of the sausages sizzling on the pan. Neither man said anything, did anything that might initiate a conversation. A look at the time showed that only a minute had passed, despite it feeling longer, probably due to the weighty amount of tension currently smothering the room.

God, Phoenix hated this. He hated this so damn much. They’d had their fair share of fights before, even when they’d been dating, and in their early years of marriage (alongside trying to maintain a low cover), but even those arguments seemed ridiculously miniscule in comparison to the smackdowns that had occurred over the last couple of years. 

Back in the day it hadn’t been so bad, and they could usually resolve things a lot quicker -- like the time Phoenix hadn’t been paying attention during a neighborhood cookout, and had accidentally cut down on his fingers with a meat cleaver -- instead of the actual meat he was supposed to be cutting. 

Naturally he hadn’t been injured, but it’d taken a lot of fake stitches and scarring to convince their neighbors otherwise. And sure, Miles might’ve scolded him for being careless and hadn’t let him live it down for months, but even then it hadn’t escalated to a full blown argument. 

Not like that first argument after they’d had to move that one time. And the next. And in between. What had changed during that time?

Oh yeah. They’d had kids. Kids who’d been uprooted from several schools, past friends. Kids who could be taken away from them should the truth ever come out.

That might be it.

His coffee now tasting bitter in his mouth, Phoenix set the mug back down and moved slightly away from the counter, taking a careful step towards his husband. Another look at the clock showed no time having passed. 

“Hey…about last night...uh...did you wanna talk about it?”

“No.” Miles responded quicker than Phoenix had expected him to, which meant that he might’ve been anticipating this question. Especially when this was how every other morning post-fight had begun, they were well rehearsed by now. 

“There’s nothing else to discuss. We’ve clearly run ourselves into a dead end, and for that reason I fail to see the point in continuing.”

“I--what--we continue so we can come to a resolution, isn’t  _ that  _ the point?” 

“Not in this case.” He turned over another sausage, which he then placed on one of the plates he had set out. “How many times have we had the same argument and not resolved it? No, I’m afraid trying now would be completely pointless. Especially since you’re failing to see reason--”

“And you’re failing to see my reason!” Phoenix huffed. “Shit, Miles, how many times do you want me to say it? It was  _ dark,  _ nobody saw me, and that’s that. We’re fine, we don’t have to move again, end of story.”

“End of this story, perhaps. What about the next one, what’ll happen then?” Phoenix was about to respond, but was cut off by an abrupt raise of Miles’ hand. “No, don’t answer that. We’re done discussing this, at least until you’re ready to be sensible about it.”

“I--” Phoenix faltered, another excruciatingly long minute passing. By now all the sausages had been cooked, and Miles had switched to the other pan to start on the eggs. He still didn’t look at him, so Phoenix could only imagine the expression on his face. Or not. Maybe he didn’t want to, because the one he was seeing hurt too much to think about.

“...would it help if I said I was sorry?”

Seconds, not minutes passed this time, much as it felt like it. It was now that Miles looked over at him, his expression exactly matching the one Phoenix had envisioned. 

“It would. If you really meant it.”

At these words, Phoenix felt a huge pang in his heart, one that caused it to sink as far as it could possibly go. “ _ But I am sorry, I do mean it!”  _ were the words in his mind, the ones he wanted to say, but they wouldn’t form. He couldn’t make them come out, not when he himself knew that it was only half the truth. 

Was he sorry he might’ve accidentally put his family at risk again? Yes. But was he sorry he’d acted on his Super impulses, sorry that he’d saved someone? No. Absolutely not. Not when it made him feel more alive than anything else ever had or did lately.

So he stayed quiet, tried to think of something better, something less awful and more truthful to say, but nothing he came up with seemed to be a better alternative. During this time, someone’s bedroom door opened, footsteps starting a slow trek down the hall but immediately breaking into a full sprint at the sound of another bedroom door opening. The obvious fight for the bathroom was followed by a low cry coming from Trucy’s room, her siblings likely having woken her up.

Miles glanced towards the noise, sighing, then back to Phoenix. 

“Here. See if you can resolve _ this  _ instead.” 

He gestured towards the eggs now cooking in their pan, then tossed the spatula Phoenix’s way, which he fumbled with, almost dropping it. When he’d regained hold of it and looked back up, Miles was already gone. 

* * *

Phoenix had been right in guessing that that day was going to be rough. As was the next day, and the day after that. 

Any conversations he’d tried to have with Miles were stilted, any attempts at trying to reconcile meaningless. Ever since that night, he’d been acting more on edge, more guarded, each night finding him in the same turned-away, at-the-edge-of-the-bed position, back turned and refusing to acknowledge Phoenix. He barely greeted him in the morning, stiffened at each kiss and touch, so much so that Phoenix had almost been tempted to leave earlier for work just to avoid these things. 

He couldn’t, though. It was pointless, not when he’d just be coming home to the same lukewarm reception. It was evidently clear that he’d used up his three strikes, and that it was going to be awhile before things went back to normal...well, as normal as it could possibly get for a couple of Supers. 

All he could do in the meantime was give Miles some space, at least until things calmed down. Then they could try talking again, they could actually come to some sort of resolution. A foolish thing to hope for all things considered, and especially given their past conflicts, but Phoenix was determined to try. 

The problem was, he just didn’t know how. 

All he knew was that he wanted to make things right, had to. Somehow. What kind of partner would he be if he didn’t, what kind of an example would he be setting for their kids? It didn’t help that he was already doing a piss poor job of that with his constantly uprooting them, and it was all but haunting him that he and Miles’ latest dispute had gotten loud enough to the point of waking them. 

In the past, they’d always been good about keeping their voices low with these discussions, things had just...boiled over this time. 

Not that Phoenix was surprised it had, it’d been bound to eventually. It just made him worry about what might happen the next time. If there was a next time, that was, which if things kept going the way they were, then there was a strong possibility of that happening. He could avoid it, he knew he could, actually try to keep his promise of not breaking cover for once, and act like the averagely boring salaryman he was supposed to be. 

It shouldn’t be that hard. Yet it was.

Even after that conversation with Maya, he wasn’t any closer to feeling content, let alone know what exactly was wrong with him. He had a family, he had a career, and so much time had passed, you’d think by now that he’d be able to leave the  _ “Captain Indestructible” _ phase of his life behind him and move on. 

It wasn’t like he hadn’t tried either, he was just...tired of trying. That’s the only thing he did know for sure, was that he was exhausted, worn out. Especially when he knew he was worth more than this crap job paid him, that there was more he could be doing, more people he could be helping--

No, he couldn’t think about that right now. Not because he didn’t want to, but he was currently at work and still hadn’t caught up on the amount of reports he was supposed to have filed. However with this being such a boring task, he couldn’t help but let his mind wander back to possible things to say, possible ways to remedy his situation back at home. 

Not that he was any closer to finding one. Anything he’d come up with sounded like it would just result in another dead-ended fight, so he pushed it to the back of his mind and decided to actually try and pay attention to what it was that he was typing out. Good thing too, considering that he’d begun to delve right into a train of unintelligible gibberish.

Huffing, he pressed at the backspace key until all errors were gone, and was just about to resume typing when his desk phone started to ring. Thinking it to be a customer he didn’t have the time for right now, he shook his head and ignored it, continuing to type in hopes that it would eventually stop ringing.

Except that it didn’t. 

So as much as he didn’t want to, he stopped typing, and plucked the phone out of its receiver. Almost instantly he could hear a shrill barrage of yelling on the other end, accompanied by a woman’s voice. A voice that sounded like it was trying  _ way _ too hard to keep calm. 

“Mr. Wright, if you could, Mr. Payne wants to see you in his office.”

Phoenix winced.  _ Great.  _ Because that’s exactly what he needed, another problem to add to the list of ones he already had.

“Uh...right now?”

“Yes.” A loud crash sounded, alongside more yelling and a strained sigh from the woman.  _ “Now.” _

With that confirming that he didn’t have much say in the matter, Phoenix placed the phone back on its receiver and wearily pushed his chair back, then got up, trudging out and down the hall. Just as he had back at the theatre, he failed to see the same woman from the burger place watching him as he walked by, before she casually and quietly slipped into his cubicle without much notice from anyone else.

Arriving at Payne’s office, Phoenix was met with a surprising silence. Unlike what he’d heard over the phone, things seemed to be...calm, for the most part. In fact, things were too calm, like... _ alarmingly  _ calm. That wasn’t exactly the best feeling to have when you were called in for a meeting with your boss, but it's the one Phoenix felt regardless. 

He stood in front of Payne’s desk, awkwardly waiting while his boss worked at sharpening a pencil, which he then placed in a cup full of other similar looking pencils. Glancing up to Phoenix, he nodded towards one of the impossibly small and uncomfortable-looking chairs in front of him.

“Have a seat, Wright.” 

Phoenix inwardly didn’t want to, but he did so anyways since he had no other alternative. Immediately, he was met with two cold plastic chair arms digging into his ribs, and cringed. 

“Do you know why I called you here today, Wright?” He looked up to see Payne with both hands clasped atop the desk. “Please, by all means go ahead and guess.”

‘I...uh…” Phoenix shifted in his seat, trying to achieve the impossible task of getting comfortable. “I’m not sure exactly--”

“Because I’m not pleased, Wright, that’s why.” Without giving him the chance to finish, Payne continued on, getting up from his desk. “I’m not pleased at all, or more specifically, I’m not pleased with  _ you.  _ Even  _ more _ specifically, I’m not pleased with your work performance as of late.”

He began to circle the room, hands still clasped but behind his back now.

“Would you like to know  _ why _ I’m not pleased with your performance, Wright?”

“Not really…” Phoenix cleared his throat, covering up his previous words with a cough at the look at his boss had just sent him. “I mean uh, yeah. Of course I’d like to know, sir.”

“Good, because I’ll tell you. Your rebellion, your constant need to stray from company norms and not be a part of the team, to not listen to your designated leader and do as you are instructed.” 

“I’m not sure I follow--”

“Your clients. You approve half of them, which would be fine enough, but the ones you turn away somehow seem to have every single right idea of how to challenge the bureaucracy. They know all the loopholes, all the ins and outs, and it doesn’t take much examining to figure out how.” Payne said, beginning to circle the room once. “That’s why I’m not pleased, that reason exactly, and do you want to know  _ why _ it's that reason exactly?” 

“I’m--”

“Because it doesn’t look good for a company, Wright. It doesn’t help it succeed, it doesn’t help it work.” Payne stopped right in front of Phoenix, clicking his heels together. “Think of it...think of Paysurance, as a clock if you will. Now, what helps a clock run?”

“...cogs?”

“Yes, exactly. And what happens if one of those cogs ceases to function? What do you think would happen to the clock?”

“Uh…huh, it’d stop working correctly?”

“Precisely. You see, this is what we run the risk of happening to Paysurance should you not properly cooperate with company rules. It could ruin us, bring us down to the ground--”

Payne continued to ramble on and on, but Phoenix couldn’t say he was listening much anymore. Couldn’t focus, all the words melding together and making about as much sense as the gibberish he’d typed earlier. Just how was he  _ ruining  _ Paysurance exactly? The company made good enough money as it was, it wasn’t all going to come caving down because he’d decided to have the decency to help a few people out. That’s the only reason he’d accepted this job when it was offered to him, not because he fancied crunching numbers all day but because he’d have a chance to still help people in their time of need. 

Now it seemed like even that was just as risky to him as resuming hero work was.

Letting his attention drift, Phoenix, by chance, found himself looking out the adjacent window, while Payne moved on to the chart behind his desk, discussing business analytics or something like it. Whatever it was he didn’t care enough to listen, but what he did care to notice was what was happening in the alleyway below them. It was an alarming sight, an older and sharply-dressed man being forcefully grabbed and shoved into the alley by another man, this one being dressed in a dark hoodie and jeans. He slammed him first against a wall, then a dumpster as the older man desperately struggled to get away without much luck.

“--and that’s not even the half of it! Do you want to know what  _ is _ the half of it, Wright?” Payne’s voice cut in, but Phoenix didn’t take his eyes away from the alley, continuing to watch in wide-eyed helpless horror as the man pulled out a knife, pressing it at the other’s throat. “Wright, are you listening?”

When Phoenix didn’t answer, Payne impatiently huffed and marched over towards him. 

“I’m trying to make a point, Wright, I’d appreciate if you could pay attention--”

“Forget your point!” Phoenix snapped, not caring at all about the puny look of shocked offense on Payne’s face. “There’s a man in the alley, he’s getting mugged!”

Looking back to the alley saw the man on the ground, his assailant viciously delivering several swift and solid kicks to his torso. Payne joined Phoenix in witnessing this terrible sight, only to nonchalantly shrug and walk back to over his chart.

“Not our customer, not our problem.” He picked up the pointer stick that Phoenix hadn’t even noticed he’d had by now. “Now, back to what I was saying--”

“Save it, I won’t be here to listen.” Phoenix got up from his chair, fully intending to walk out of the office. He didn’t know what chance he had of getting down there before that man in the hoodie got away, but the more he sat around here the more he was wasting time. It wouldn’t be good for him to act on his impulses again this soon, and it wouldn’t help him in trying to reconcile with Miles, but dammit he couldn’t just sit around and do nothing like this, it wouldn’t be right. 

“Oh, you will be.”

“No I won’t--”

“Yes, you will. That is, unless you’d rather be fired.”

Phoenix stopped. He froze, hand outstretched to grab the door knob. Behind him, he could hear Payne’s foot tapping, and looked back around to see him with a smarmy, smug grin on his face. 

He could turn around and leave. He wanted to, part of him not even caring about Payne’s threat. So what if he were fired, that’d be a relief compared to wasting several hours of his life away here. If anything Payne would be doing him the biggest favor--

Or not. Maybe he wouldn’t be, actually. He was lucky to have this job all things considered, and it was one of their only sources of income. To throw that all away in favor of acting on instinct...somehow, he doubted that would be worth it.

Much as it pained him, he lowered his hand from the door knob. Stepped away from the door, and reluctantly walked back to his chair, although he didn’t sit down. Payne seemed pleased enough that he was back, though, which was all he needed to go on with his grating exposition. Phoenix curled both his fists, head lowering, and out of embittered interest, looked back out the window.

The attacking thief was gone. His victim, nowhere to be found, likely having been chucked into a dumpster without a second thought. This caused his fists to curl up even further, jaw clenching and grinding. 

It wasn’t fair. He should’ve done something, _ could’ve _ . Yeah, not doing anything had been safer, it’d been the less risky choice; really, in a sick sort of way, it’d been doing the right thing since it wouldn’t put anyone at risk and he wouldn’t have to worry about another endless debate so soon. 

But that didn’t make him happy. It didn’t make him feel gratified, or relieved. 

Instead, it made him feel pissed, enraged him. Anger and frustration burned through his veins with no sign of stopping, heart pounding loud enough to where it was the only thing he could audibly hear. He’d spent so long bottling all these feelings up, doing like Maya had suggested and putting on a brave face for his family, but he couldn’t take it anymore. It was too much, too much stress, too much faking, too much of  _ everything _ . He wanted to break something, or throw something, just to feel something, just to  _ feel _ better--

And without meaning to, that’s exactly what he did. Except that it wasn’t the logical choice of the chair, not Payne’s desk or even his stupid chart.

No, it was Payne himself. 

The poor man, it wasn’t his fault he was such an annoying prick, but with how he kept rattling on and on about shit Phoenix could care less about, it made him the choice target. It wasn’t even until after he’d grabbed him and thrown him straight through his office and every cubicle and wall within their vicinity had he even realized what he’d done. Not until he saw the amount of Payne-sized holes in front of him, and the shocked (and some understandably terrified) faces of his coworkers all staring back at him.

“...fuck.”

* * *

Two immeasurably long hours later found Phoenix seated in a hospital hallway outside his boss’ room, hunched over with both elbows resting on his knees -- one of which was anxiously bouncing. It was quite the idle position to be in, but after spending an hour pacing the halls, it was all he could muster, all he could bring himself to do. 

If he’d thought he was a dead man after that last fight, then what he’d done today had just sealed his fate. 

That wasn’t to say it hadn’t felt good at first. He’d worked and suffered under Payne’s piddling thumb for so long now, he was surprised this hadn’t happened a lot sooner than it had. At the moment, it’d felt so  _ amazing  _ to finally put that pompous little weasel in his place, but then that moment had passed, and now the gravity of the situation was weighing in on him. His co-workers had all been witnesses, it hadn’t been dark, they’d seen what he’d done and who he’d done it to. 

Maybe, just maybe, Miles might’ve had a point to what he’d said. About being spotted the next time, about not getting so lucky.

He just didn’t think it’d happen so soon. He’d thought he’d have a bit more time before the next incident, he hadn’t expected two in the same week. 

Only this one...fuck, this one was so much worse than the prior. 

Just how was he going to break the news that he’d been fired  _ and _ blown their cover all in the same day? He didn’t even want to think about it, about the fallout that was about to ensue. No doubt Miles was going to be  _ beyond _ pissed, and the kids would definitely distraught at the idea of moving again. Especially Apollo, he was already going through a rough patch in his life right now no thanks to his many burgeoning teenage emotions, and it was clear that all these moves were having a seriously bad impact on him. 

And Kay? Much as she pretended she was fine and wasn’t bothered, he knew that wasn’t the case. Even Trucy, at her young age, didn’t seem as oblivious as one would expect. She could never sleep anywhere she wasn’t comfortable at, and would always spend the first few nights upon moving in keeping everyone else awake.

Add that to another point for Miles. He was right, it wasn’t fair to keep moving them around like this, and for that, he had no idea how he was going to be able to face them when he got home tonight.

The door next to him opened, causing Phoenix to bolt up from his slumped over position, knee ceasing its bouncing. He jumped up from his seat, right as Dick Gumshoe, briefcase in hand, exited the room. He met Phoenix’s nervous gaze with an uncharacteristically troubled look, before continuing on down the hallway, Phoenix quickly moving to follow him.

“He’s alive, right? Please tell me he’s alive, I haven’t had a chance to see him.” he pressed. “I just--I threw him so hard and--”

“He’ll be fine, pal.” Gumshoe replied, waving away a man in sunglasses, who’d been standing guard at the edge of the hall since they’d gotten here. “At the most, he’s gonna be stuck with a few months of physical therapy and a few medical bills. All things considered, it could’ve been a lot worse.”

“Is he--he’s not pressing charges is he?”

“With the concussion you gave him? Nah, I doubt he even remembers enough for that.” 

“But he still remembered enough to fire me, I’m guessing.”

“What do you think?” They stopped walking long enough to allow a passing gurney to be pushed by. “But see, even if he hadn’t the Agency would’ve had your employment terminated anyways, it’d just be too risky to keep you around -- even after we’d finished the memory wipe. They just...well, it’s nothing personal, but they don’t need any possible reminders that might accidentally trigger anything. I’m sure you know how it works by now.” 

Phoenix couldn’t even verbally respond to that, only nodding glumly. 

“And even then, that’s just one thing we’ve gotta do to remedy the whole deal. In fact we can’t actually go ahead with the memory wipe until after we complete repairs.” Gumshoe pointed out, as their journey down the hall and toward the elevator continued.. “But then, we can’t exactly complete repairs until we’ve paid the company off, which would be a lot easier said than done if we weren’t so underfunded right now.”

They reached the elevators, Gumshoe pressing the  _ down  _ button, which instantly lit up as he did so. 

“Heh, you’d think by wanting Supers to stay underground so badly the government would be willing to spare a little more than they do. Y’know, instead of constantly cutting down on our salaries…” He chuckled sadly. The elevator doors opened with a ding and he stepped inside. 

“No, I’m sorry pal, but I’m just not sure how much longer we can keep doing this. I hate to say it, but you might be on your own this time.”

Phoenix hung his head, stomach twisting.

“Y-yeah, no, I get it. It’s...it’s fine. Thanks anyways, Gumshoe.” He didn’t mean to sound so downhearted but he couldn’t help it either. The elevator doors began to close, Phoenix turning his back to them -- only to glance back when they suddenly opened back up, likely due to Gumshoe having grabbed onto them to stop them from closing. 

“Wait, actually...wait just a minute--” He sighed, scratching at the back of his head. “Actually, maybe I  _ could  _ help you out. Somehow, y’know, see if I can’t pull a few strings.”

“Oh, no--I can’t ask you to do that--” 

“Don’t have to, I want to. I owe it to you and Mr. Edgeworth, you know, for old times sake.” Gumshoe interrupted. “Especially Mr. Edgeworth, I would’ve never gotten this job if it weren’t for him, let alone meet my Maggey.”

That was something Phoenix couldn’t necessarily argue with. While his friendship with Dick Gumshoe only went as far back as when the man had first been assigned his handler, Miles had known him even longer, having worked with him when he was still on the police force. They’d apparently collaborated on several jobs together, and it was through Miles’ personal recommendation to the Agency that he’d gotten hired, and subsequently, had met the agent he’d fallen in love with and eventually married.

For all those reasons alone was why they’d earned his unwavering gratitude and loyalty, and it was that loyalty that had prevented them from being separated when relocations had first started. Gumshoe had all but insisted on remaining their handler, practically putting his job on the line to ensure that they’d stay together. Ever since then he’d been in charge of pretty much all their moves, and had sufficiently earned his place as a good friend and unofficial member of the family.

Even if it had ultimately cost him a bigger paycheck.

“--now, I’m sure there’s still a few people who owe me some favors. I can check in with them, get back to you in a couple of days.” He continued, Phoenix suddenly realizing he’d not been listening for a good portion of this conversation. “With any luck, I’ll be able to secure you a decent relocation in no time--”

“No. No relocation.” Phoenix quickly shook his head at this, glad he’d started paying attention. “I can’t do that to Miles and the kids again, not after the last time. It wouldn’t…”

His mind flashed back to earlier thoughts, to the argument with Miles.

“...it wouldn’t be fair.”

A long moment passed, a long quiet moment. 

“Yeah, it wouldn’t be would it…” 

Gumshoe nodded slowly, soberly, releasing the door he was holding on to. “Well, in that case...take care, Mr. Wright.” 

Phoenix only nodded again, unable to vocally return the sentiment. The metal doors slid shut, the elevator descending. All the while he remained in place, a man with the weight of the world on his shoulders. 

And even with all his strength, he didn’t think he could manage to bear it anymore. 

* * *

For the first time in forever, Phoenix was able to exactly pinpoint what emotion he felt about returning home. It wasn’t the same sort of usual mixed dread and comfort he’d normally feel, but a heavy and sorrowful guilt sitting at the pit of his stomach. Pulling into the driveway, he didn’t get out of the car straight away and instead stayed where he was, only unbuckling his seatbelt. Trying to figure out what to say, how to gently break it to his husband that he’d been fired and they would possibly have to move again. 

There was just no way he could, with their recent fight being so fresh. This would surely keep him on the couch for the next several weeks, or worse, see him kicked out to sleep in his car. Or not, there was no guarantee that they’d  _ have  _ to move, that itself was weighing on whether the Agency had the funds or not. 

At best, Phoenix would just be unemployed...but that was still a problem, wasn’t it?

That job really had been the only thing that was putting food on the table, aside from the occasional legal aide jobs Miles took sometimes when they needed extra cash, which wasn’t as often anymore since they’d adopted Trucy and he’d had his hands full looking after her. They couldn’t afford a regular babysitter, and Maya couldn’t afford to keep babysitting her for free when she had her own business to run. Pearl was another option, but she had enough on her plate what with being in school  _ and  _ working part-time, that would just be asking too much of her.

So many solutions flying through his head, and yet all of them came with catches. Even after sitting in his car for six minutes, he hadn’t come up with anything that didn’t involve a risk for anyone, and he doubted that even spending a whole hour here would help either. 

He just had to face it. 

He’d have to tell Miles what happened, one way or another...but not right now. Not right before dinner, this was the kind of thing you saved for  _ after  _ dinner. 

Sighing, he pushed his car door open and stepped out, just in time to see Cody Hackins making his daily rounds in front of their house, likely waiting for something utterly  _ amazing _ to happen like it had that one singular time. 

Too bad Phoenix was in the habit of disappointing everyone today.

Ruefully trudging up to the house, he unlocked the front door and stepped inside, once again not surprised to find nobody there to greet him. 

Oddly enough, there didn’t seem to be anyone in the living room either. 

Entering the kitchen found it to be empty as well, and Phoenix, puzzled, had to check his phone to see if he’d missed any texts or phone calls from Miles that might offer an explanation for the eerily emptiness, and found that, in all his frustration in dealing with the mess from earlier and then taking his time to drive home, hadn’t realized Miles had left him a text explaining that he might be a bit late in getting home after he picked the kids up since he needed to stop by the store and pick up a few things for dinner. 

Unable to will himself to type in an entire reply, Phoenix responded with a thumbs-up emoji before heading off to the den. Just as he did every day, he turned the light on, and was greeted by the same posters, the same newspaper clippings and magazine covers. He loosened his tie, walking over to his desk to set his briefcase down. 

Clicking it open, Phoenix was met with an unorganized mess of files and papers, starting with his employee guidebook at the very top. He picked it up, staring down at the cover, before scowling and tearing it in half, tossing it into the wastepaper basket next to him. He did the same with the next several items he picked up, that was until he became too impatient, and turned the briefcase over the basket, impatiently dumping the rest of its contents out.

Before he could even move to put the briefcase away, a light metallic  _ thud _ rang out from the bottom of the basket, gaining his attention. At first he thought nothing of it, thinking it to be all the pens he’d hoarded from work, but then, it hadn’t really sounded like a collective thud of multiple items, now had it…

No, it definitely hadn’t. 

Curiosity getting the better of him, Phoenix knelt and started digging through his trash to find the culprit, confused when he pulled out what looked to be some sort of tablet computer. Or that’s what he’d thought it was, but upon further inspection it didn’t look like anything he’d ever seen in the store before. For one thing it didn’t seem as bulky, was more paper thin, smaller, and the logo at the bottom wasn’t from any company Phoenix recognized.

Running his hand along the side to search for maybe a button, anything to try and turn it on, he was surprised when the screen suddenly lit up on its own, glowing blue text appearing over the pitch black.

“Hold still…?” Phoenix squinted to read it, bewildered when the screen began to rapidly flash, several matching squares lining up on each side of his face before all connecting. 

_ “Match: Captain Indestructible. Identity confirmed.”  _ A robotic voice spoke, startling Phoenix and causing him to drop the tablet to the floor. He stumbled back, watching in befuddlement while a red light spun around the room, scanning it in its entirety.

_ “Location is secure.”  _ The voice spoke again, the red light fading. “ _ Proceed with message.”  _

Phoenix blinked, trying to process what exactly it was that was going on, and glanced back down to the tablet. He didn’t pick it up just yet, standing over it and watching as a video of a young woman appeared on the screen, looking up at him with a kind and lovely smile. She had long black hair with eyes to match, and was wearing a lilac blazer that was buttoned up over a cream-colored blouse.

Something about her face though...something seemed very familiar about it. He just couldn’t place where he’d seen it before. 

_ “Hello Captain Indestructible.”  _ She began to speak, or rather, the video began to play.  _ “Yes, I know who you are. Or rather, we all do, but you don’t have to worry. Your secret is more than safe with us.” _

What...what was going on right now? Phoenix still hadn’t figured it out, so against his best judgement, knelt and picked the tablet back up. He turned it back and forth in his hands, searching again for a button to turn it off, or even to adjust the volume, but no such luck. 

_ “Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Iris, I represent a top secret firm based in the further pacific regions of the country. One that I think you’d find has a lot in common with you.”  _ The message continued on, Phoenix stopping his search for a button to actually listen.  _ “That is, in the fact that neither of you currently exist to the public eye. And now, we’re in desperate need of your assistance. I would advise you to pay close attention as the information I’m about to relay to you is strictly classified, and won’t be repeated.”  _

That was it. That was all she had to say to pique his interest, and his listening became more intent, more focused than it had been before. He _ still  _ had no sweet clue as to what was going on, but he was intent on sticking around to find out now. 

Dropping to his desk, he scrambled to find something he could write on, something to write with, only for every pen he picked up to not be working. 

_ “My firm specializes in producing high tech weaponry and technology for the government. Recently, one of our projects got a bit...shall we say, out of hand, and escaped from its testing unit. Ever since, it's been posing a strong threat to both our facility properties and employees, making the area unsuitable to work in.” _

Tossing what must’ve been the fifth pen aside, Phoenix finally found one that would work and picked up his old work notepad from the wastepaper basket, tearing a piece of paper out to write on. He began to furiously scribble what he could manage at the paper, as the message went on. 

_ “And that’s where you come in. Your job, should you choose to accept it, would involve suppressing the threat at all costs, thus allowing our facilities to resume work. You would of course, be compensated for your work -- your payment being nearly four times that of your usual salary.”  _

Phoenix nearly stopped writing at this, but continued out of fear of missing anything important. 

This...this had to be too good to be true, right? 

_ “If you’re at all interested in this offer, then please refer to the card provided to you after the end of this message. By all means, don’t feel obligated to decide on anything immediately, but I encourage you to consider if anything else. ”  _

He looked back over to the screen, away from the quadruple dollar signs he’d just doodled onto the paper. 

_ “The Supers may have been forced to disappear, Captain, but that doesn’t mean they’re gone forever. You still have the chance to do amazing things...or not, ultimately it's your choice. Either way, you have twenty four hours to respond. I’ll be looking forward to your call.”  _

At that, the video ended, screen going blank and Iris’ face disappearing. Phoenix dropped his pen, pouring over the brief information he’d managed to write down, then collapsed back into his desk chair. His heart was beating faster and wilder than it ever had before, head swimming with a fresh buzz of excitement, exhilaration. It was hard to think, hard to do much of anything except sit there and ponder what had just happened. 

He was still convinced that this was too good to be true. What if he called the number only to find out that it was a scam, some sort of elaborate prank? It’d been so long since he’d gotten offered work like this, and he didn’t exactly want to get his hopes up…

Letting his gaze wander around the room, he took it all in. The same posters, the same drawings, the same magazine covers and news articles, only Phoenix wasn’t looking at them with remorse this time. There was a newfound fondness in his mind and heart, alongside Iris’ last few words echoing in his ears.

Supers weren’t gone forever. They had done amazing things, they still could.  _ He _ still could. 

Just as they always did, his eyes landed on the glass case his super suit resided in. Only this time, its sight wasn’t quite as taunting, and far more inviting. 

Adventure was calling. He could feel it. The only question was, was he going to let it pass him by?

A high-pitched beeping suddenly pulled him from his trance, making him look back down at the tablet as the promised card Iris had mentioned was printed out. Without thinking so much about it, Phoenix plucked it free and turned it over, finding Iris’ name inscribed above a series of numbers -- likely her phone number. 

He was about to slip the card into his pocket, the tablet began to incessantly beep again. Only now, the robotic voice from earlier accompanied it. 

_ “This message will self-destruct.” _

“Huh--no no no, wait--” 

Trying to think fast, Phoenix grabbed the now-violently vibrating tablet and ran for the door, swinging it open. He didn’t know where he was going or what he was going to do, but the last thing he wanted was for some tablet of unknown origin to be exploding in his den, and  _ definitely  _ not inside the house. 

His only plan of action was to throw it out a window -- or maybe into the garage, but he didn’t make it that far before the tablet all but leapt out of his hands, exploding into a mess of smoke and debris right there in the hallway. Instantly his ears were filled with the shrieking wail of the smoke detector, which in-turn set off almost every sprinkler in the house.

In a case of poor timing, this was also when Miles and the kids had arrived back home. Practically half-deaf from the smoke detector, Phoenix could just barely hear the utter panic in their voices as they came through the front door -- what sounded like Kay whooping and cheering, footsteps rushing frantically around the entryway, the living room. 

The only thing he could distinctly make out was Miles’ irate shouting of his name, ringing loud and clear throughout the entire house. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the wait on this chapter everyone, I've been trying to get situated at a new job and have also been hyper fixating a lot on Sims 3 lately (that's what I get for curiously seeing if I could get my game to work again). But!! I'm excited to finally have this one done, so thanks once again for your patience and willingness to deal with my terribly nonexistent updating schedule. 😊 I'm serious when I say this fic is so damn fun to write, and I hope its just as fun to read for y'all as well!
> 
> As always, leave a comment and kudos if you enjoyed!


	7. Phoenix Versus the KillerBot X-600

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post-tablet blow up and a dinner outside, Phoenix manages to convince Miles' he's been called away for a "work related" conference and ventures off to a remote island, where he soon encounters the infamous KillerBot X-600. Unbeknownst to him, his every move is being watched, as shady behavior continues to occur behind the scenes...

A while back, Phoenix might’ve scoffed at the idea of having an outdoor dining table, considering such a thing to be pointless since they almost never ate outside save for the cookouts they’d have during the summer. 

Tonight, he’d inadvertently proved himself wrong about that supposed fact.

With the lingering smell of smoke in the air and the house and its contents completely soaked from the sprinkler shower, tonight’s dinner had been forced to move to the backyard -- where thankfully, no more unexpected showers were to be found. Even with it being early April, the weather was very pleasant, and very warm, the skies completely devoid of rain clouds. And getting to see the sun set while they’d been eating had been a nice addition to the evening, the plethora of dancing and morphing colors almost making Phoenix forget why they’d been out here in the first place.

Except that he couldn’t exactly forget, for just as soon as he’d looked back from the sky towards the back door, had seen that it was slid open so as to air things out -- as were all the kitchen windows, and most of the living room windows as well. Any portable fan they’d had stashed away for summer heatwave emergencies was out and on, turned up to the highest degree possible.

Post-dinner saw Phoenix joining the one they’d had propped out in the living room, hair dryer in hand as he worked at drying off the couch cushions. Nearby, Miles had finished cleaning up the dinner dishes and was just now closing all the kitchen windows, since it’d been well over two hours and the smell of smoke had welcomely subsided. He crossed over to the living room, passing by Phoenix as he went to shut the other windows as well as the front door, Phoenix glancing at him momentarily before picking up another couch cushion to dry off.

He didn’t... _ seem _ mad, not now at least. Or maybe he was doing a really good job of hiding it, either way it was hard to tell. He’d been briefly miffed upon coming home to find the sprinklers all alert and the fire alarm blaring, but other than that hadn’t really spoken all that much about it for the entire duration of dinner. 

But then, perhaps that was the lesser issue, provided he still seemed to be acting just a little bit off. Not even in the way that he’d been for the past couple of days since their argument, and Phoenix couldn’t place why. Just that it wasn’t helping him in trying to come up with a reasonable way to tell him that he’d been fired, nor was it making the aura in the room any less disconcerting. 

“Phoenix.” He jumped, both from the sudden voice and the hand that’d placed itself on his shoulder, looking back to see Miles standing beside him. “A moment, if you will? I erm...I think we need to talk.”

Uh oh. That tone of voice didn’t sound in any way reassuring, and neither did the pressed expression on Miles’ face. His stomach lurching, Phoenix nodded, clicking a button on the hair dryer to shut it off.

“Uh--sure. Sure, what’s up?”

“Us. Our fight.” Miles slipped his hand from Phoenix’s shoulder, tersely grabbing at his own arm while dropping to sit on the semi-dry couch, Phoenix warily sitting next to him. “I’ve...I’ve had some time to mull it over, and while I’m not entirely remorseful about what I said to you...”

He paused, sharply inhaling. 

“I  _ am  _ sorry about the way I said it.” Exhaling, he squeezed his arm before letting it go. “You were right, in a way I suppose I  _ was _ overreacting just a tad. But even so, you must understand I had...have reasons to, three reasons in fact.”

Saying this, his eyes flicked to a portrait on the wall -- this particular portrait being one they’d had done of the kids sometime around Christmas last year, thus answering Phoenix’s silent question of what exactly those reasons were. Ah yes, _ those _ three reasons. Those three sweet, smiling faces. The ones that until today sat in front of him on his cubicle desk, giving him the motivation to stay put and provide for them. Ensure that they’d have stable lives, better lives than the ones they’d come from. 

And now he’d failed them. 

“You know I only want what’s best for them, we both do.” Miles continued, Phoenix looking away as a gigantic ball of guilt began to twist and knot up in his stomach, replacing the prior churning. 

“That being said, I didn’t mean to accuse you of underreacting, either. I know that you’re trying your best, and to your credit, you did go for quite a few months without much incident...but I also know that your job is incredibly stressful, and for that I can see why you might’ve been tempted to act out…”

He reached over and tenderly cupped his hand around Phoenix’s chin, lifting it back up for their eyes to meet. It was hard for Phoenix to not immediately look back down again, he only prayed it’d be dim enough in here that Miles didn’t see the shame shining in his eyes. 

“I can’t even begin to imagine what you go through every day and...well, I believe what I’m trying to say is that...despite all our disagreements and...everything, I’m proud of you.” 

“Miles…” 

“No, I am, truly. I’m proud, and I’m grateful for all that you’ve done for us. I’m painfully aware that I don’t say it enough but…” Miles shook his head. “Well, I’m saying it now. That’s all that matters, I suppose.”

He leaned forward, close enough for the two to share a soft kiss, then got back up and resumed closing all the windows. For a minute Phoenix didn’t move, staying stiffly put on the couch as he racked his brain for something to say, something that would be a good response. He knew he’d have to tell Miles what happened today, was planning on it as soon as he got the chance to...but now? 

Now he wasn’t so sure he could, not after receiving such affirming words of praise. 

Swallowing hard and thickly, Phoenix picked the hair dryer back up, although he didn’t turn it back on straight away. He glanced at Miles, then at the picture of the kids. What could he say, what could he do...they were finally getting somewhere, patching things up and figuring out a common ground. Saying what he had to say now might fuck this all up, but he also couldn’t say  _ nothing _ .

“Um...heh, funny you should mention the job…” This was a start, this was a good start. His voice was shaking, wobbling, much as he fought to keep it steady. “Something uh...something actually er, happened today…”

Miles glanced back at him, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh?”

“Y-yeah, uh…Payne, um, he called me into his office…” 

“Ah, of course. What for this time?” A sigh, another window dropping shut. “To scold you again? Reprimand you for actually doing your job?”

“Um...’ Upon realizing his hand was visibly trembling, Phoenix quickly sat the hair dryer back onto the coffee table and stood up. “No, no not at all. Actually, he wants to send me out of town for a few days. To a conference.”

“...a conference?” Miles repeated, sounding both surprised and inquiring at the same time. “That’s...the first I’ve heard of such a thing…”

“O-oh, me too. Believe me I was just as confused as you are,” What was he  _ saying _ , what was he  _ doing _ \-- “But uh, apparently Payne was going to go himself but something’s come up and...um, he thought that this would be a good learning opportunity for me.”

“I see…” Picking up some books that'd been sat out to dry on the kitchen counter, Miles came back, beginning to rearrange them on the bookshelf beside the couch. “What did you say then? Are you going?” 

“I’m...not sure, I said I wanted to discuss it with you first.”

Phoenix held his breath, waiting while Miles finished putting the books back in place. He looked contemplative, thoughtful, processing the elaborate lie Phoenix had just fed to him. It was tricky to tell if he’d bought it or not, he was always so good about catching his husband’s bluff…

“Well, if it's my blessing you want,” Oh. Oh wait, or maybe not. Maybe Phoenix had finally perfected the art. “I don’t see any reason why you shouldn’t go. Considering that Payne singled you out of all the other employees, this could actually be a sign. A good sign, perhaps.” 

“Really? So...you think I should go then?”

“Yes. Did I not just say that?” 

“Oh, yeah. You kinda did..” Phoenix shuffled his hands into his pockets, fingers wrapping around the card with Iris’ number on it. “I mean, in that case...I’m gonna be gone for the whole weekend, are you sure you’re fine with that? I’m not sure I feel good leaving you that long, and alone on game night on top of that…” 

“Your concern is appreciated, but it is just  _ one  _ weekend, as you’ve said. I’m sure I’ll be able to survive a few board games with Maya and Pearl on my own.”

“Hmm, I dunno about that. You know how competitive Maya tends to get, especially with Monopoly. The last time we played she nearly took your eye out for stealing Boardwalk.”

“A fact I’m all too aware of, unfortunately. However,” He sat another book in place and turned to face Phoenix, chuckling softly and gently placing his hand back on his shoulder. The same one as he had a few minutes ago. “Marriage is about taking risks and making sacrifices, is it not? And I’m more than willing to do my part if it means a possible promotion or raise for you.”

A quick, soft squeeze to the shoulder and Miles was back to arranging the bookcase, leaving Phoenix to resume drying off the furniture, all the while trying to not stupidly grin the whole time. As far as partners went he was sure he’d hit the jackpot, even if he felt bad for fibbing like that, it was nice to have Miles’ support. Yeah, sure he didn’t know what he was actually supporting, but it still felt semi-good. 

Later that night after everyone had gone to bed -- himself included, as Miles didn’t seem all that resistant to him sleeping in their room tonight, Phoenix quietly slipped back into his den, carrying his phone and Iris’ card with him. He sat at his desk and with one hand, punched in and dialed the card’s number, still holding it in his hand while waiting for someone to answer. 

A few seconds passed. Then--

_ “Hello?” _

“Iris? This is Captain Indestructible.” 

Setting the card down, Phoenix turned around in his chair, facing his suit in the display case. And for once, he didn’t scowl at it.

“I’m in.” 

* * *

Putting on his super suit after so long had been one of the most surreal things Phoenix had ever done lately.

It’d also been one of the most difficult.

He’d tried to prepare himself for the fact that it likely wasn’t going to fit in the same way. After all, fifteen years had passed and he wasn’t exactly the same able-bodied, fresh faced young college student he’d used to be. Years of a lack of exercise and a poor diet had left him with a softer body than his suit was accustomed to fitting, and thus had taken him a good fifteen minutes to put on. Moving around in it had taken some readjustment, especially since up until he arrived for his flight, had been layering one of his regular business suits over it so as not to drum up any sort of suspicion from Miles. 

He fortunately didn’t seem to suspect much and had only wished Phoenix well before he left, just barely being able to squeeze a kiss in between Kay’s pestering him to bring back presents, and Trucy’s insistence on spitting up the oatmeal she’d eaten for breakfast. Apollo had even left his room long enough to give a goodbye hug, even if he’d immediately retreated back inside the house afterwards.

It’d been so long since they’d all clamored for his attention like this, and he hadn’t realized just how much he’d missed it until now.

Despite the fact that he was essentially lying to all of them. 

It didn’t feel great, but it was too late to back out now. He’d already arranged everything with Iris and there hadn’t been much left to do at that point except pack, drive to the secluded location he’d been given and wait there for further instructions. Instructions which he soon found to include boarding a private jet -- a very  _ advanced _ and flashy private jet at that. He didn’t think he’d ever been on anything this fancy before, not even back in the old days. Technology had evidently improved vastly since that time, God knows he’d been doing good enough to keep up with every new computer and phone that kept coming out...but _ this? _

This was so much all at once. 

Wearing his suit, carrying out an assignment and riding in a fancy jet plane all in the same day had not been what he was expecting to do this week, but he wasn’t about to complain either. If anything, he was thrilled to be here. A little nervous for obvious reasons, maybe, but thrilled nonetheless.

Upon walking up to the jet, he’d been greeted by several heavily armored men who’d escorted him off to his cabin without much conversation. He’d been told to “wait there”, and waited he had, from takeoff up until now. A whole nerve-wracking fifteen minutes had passed with Phoenix fighting off the temptation to immediately dig into the expensive-looking breakfast spread he’d found set out. Much as he’d love to do nothing more, he knew that Iris would be showing up any minute now, and the last thing he’d wanted was to be caught mid-bite of a croissant with crumbs all over his face and suit. 

That was the complete opposite of the good impression he wanted to make. Even if he looked like a washed up Super, he wasn’t about to act like it. 

No, he was going to act like Captain Indestructible. Because that’s who he was. 

Although...he was admittedly rather hungry. And wouldn’t it be rude of him to not accept his host’s hospitality? They’d clearly gone through all this trouble of preparing this much food, it’d be a shame not to…oh to hell with it. 

Right as he’d begun to fill up one of the paper plates with food, the door to his cabin slid open, Iris walking inside. She wore the same lovely smile as in the video, although her blazer was now a light pink versus the lilac she’d been wearing before. 

“Captain, how wonderful to finally meet you at last.” She greeted him warmly, extending her hand. “I trust you’ve found everything to your liking so far?” 

Phoenix jumped to his feet as she approached, plate still in hand. 

“Yeah, absolutely! Thanks for asking, although…” 

He accepted her hand, shaking it firmly but not too firmly. 

“I gotta say the private cabin and breakfast was a bit of a surprise...oh, heh ,not that I’m complaining or anything. Because I’m not. I’m just saying you didn’t have to go through all that trouble is all, least not at my expense.”

“Oh, it was no trouble at all.” Iris laughed softly, with a wave of her hand. “Think nothing of it, it’s the least we can do considering what you’re about to head into.” 

Her cheerfulness somewhat dropped at this, and for a moment it almost looked like her smile had wavered. Clearing her throat, she pulled out the tablet that Phoenix hadn’t noticed was tucked under her arm previously, and the smile, although now much smaller, remained.

“Anyhow, I hope I wasn’t interrupting anything. I figured I should give you some time to adjust before briefing you,” She nodded towards the breakfast spread, or more specifically, Phoenix’s plate. “If now is still too soon, I could come back later--”

“Huh--I mean, oh. Oh, no, uh, now is great.” Shaking his head, Phoenix hastily dropped his plate back to its table, with enough force to accidentally knock over a glass in the process -- one that was thankfully not filled with any of the orange juice next to it. “No time like the present I always say.” 

He tried to grin, feeling a sting at how forcefully chipper those last words were.  _ Oh good _ , it was wonderful to know he was out of practice in more ways than one. 

“Oh, wonderful! That’s excellent, if you’ll just give me a moment--”

Iris punched in a few buttons on her tablet, which in turn caused an unmarked panel to slide open. The lights in the cabin darkened and the breakfast spread was pushed aside, the floor beneath it opening and a square, smooth screen rising out of it. It kept rising until it’d all but reached the ceiling, a blue glow emanating beneath it. 

“This is the KillerBot X-600,” Iris started, gesturing towards the imagery now being projected on screen. Phoenix walked to its opposite side, squinting and leaning forward to get a better look at his target and soon-to-be-opponent. 

If there was anything his past mentor had drilled into him enough, it was that as a Super, observing things was an essential part of ensuring satisfactory results for your job -- that, and it would cause you a lot less trouble. He’d only ever had the chance to do so briefly during his street rounds before he had to jump into action, but in more controlled missions like this, was able to soak as many details as his brain would allow him. 

And from what he was seeing now, there were...quite a lot of details to be had with this one. In all the jobs he’d done and all the shit he’d seen, this was certainly one of the more interesting ones. This ‘KillerBot’, as Iris had put it, was far from anything he would’ve been accustomed to battling. It was large, quite large -- nearly half the size of a skyscraper, but more the shape of the world’s biggest soccer ball. A ball with four legs sticking out of it, legs with...claws attached, oh dear. 

That might be a problem, he’d have to be mindful of that. 

Just as he’d have to be mindful of that noticeably sized scope at the robot’s center. He didn't know what its purpose was, but got the feeling that it couldn’t be anything good if it were  _ that  _ prominent. 

“We originally designed it as a prototype, for a series of battle robots commissioned to us from the government.” Iris continued, circling around the screen. “Its AI system is highly advanced, thus enabling it to solve any problem thrown its way no matter how difficult, and--”

“And wait, let me see if I can guess.” Phoenix interrupted. “The AI got to be a little too advanced and felt like it was too good to keep taking orders?”

“Basically, yes. Because of that, we ended up losing control,” Iris walked up next to him, hugging her tablet to her chest. “Ever since it's been loose in the jungle and posing a strong threat to our facilities. All our employees have already been evacuated, for their own safety of course.”

“Of course, I gotcha. So no bystanders then?” he questioned, Iris shaking her head. “Alright, I think I follow. How am I going in?”

“A drop.” The screen suddenly switched images-- the KillerBot now replaced by that of what looked to be their jet flying over an island. “Once we reach the island, you’ll be air dropped by about five thousand feet nearest the KillerBot’s last known location.”

“F-five thousand? That’s uh...that’s pretty high up, don’t you think?” Phoenix gulped. “Are you sure you can’t just land and let me off somewhere?”

“Unfortunately, no. The KillerBot is able to easily detect movement, so an air drop is our safest move in this scenario. That won’t be a problem for you, will it?”

“Um--no. No, not at all. Air drop, got it. Anything else I should know?”

“Nothing else that I can think of--oh, wait, yes. One more thing actually,” The jet on screen landed, the view of the island expanding. “As I previously stated, this robot was supposed to be part of a government commission. In that case, you’d know that it represents somewhat of an investment for this company, so…”

“So you don’t want me to completely destroy it, you just want me to shut it down.” Phoenix finished, Iris’ smile growing in response and looking far more amused than before. 

“Well, you  _ are _ Captain Indestructible.” She tapped another button on her tablet and tucked it back underneath her arm, turning to walk to the cabin door. The screen faded to black before sliding back down into the hole it’d emerged from, all the lights in the cabin coming back and the breakfast spread sliding back into place. 

“We reach our destination in roughly five hours. Until then, please, enjoy yourself, and don’t hesitate to let me know if you need anything else.”

“Oh, uh. I think I’ll be fine. But thank you anyways.”

“Like I said, think nothing of it.”  She placed her hand on the scanner next to the door, allowing it to slide open, glancing back at Phoenix one more time before leaving. 

“Nothing but the best  _ for _ the best, as my employer always says.”

* * *

Five hours came and went, simultaneously being some of the longest and quickest five hours of Phoenix’s life. 

He’d spent that time wisely, first eating a reasonable portion from the breakfast spread, the next, occupying himself by repeatedly thinking over the information provided to him by Iris so as not to accidentally forget anything important. By the time she came to fetch him later that day, he liked to consider himself a pro in all things KillerBot related -- at least, pro enough to know the ins and outs of taking this thing down.

Following Iris out of the cabin, he was led down a dimly lit passageway into an even darker room, where several men similarly armored to the ones he’d met earlier mulled about. Phoenix’s attempts to be friendly and try greeting them went nowhere, as they’d only semi-registered him with a blank expression before going back to whatever it was they were doing. 

“Jeez. Not the friendliest bunch, huh?” He wondered out loud, Iris giggling next to him.

“Not when they’re on the clock, no. Try catching them on break, it's a whole other story.” 

They stopped in front of the strangest looking pod Phoenix had ever seen, the one he assumed was going to be doing the honors of dropping him to his doom. He didn’t care how indestructible or invincible he was, that wasn’t going to change how terrified he inwardly was at the idea of being dropped from five thousand feet...but then, he also wasn’t about to jeopardize this mission all because he was getting cold feet, not when they were already on the plane and already at the island. 

There was absolutely no worming out of this now, his only choice was to go through it and pray that his compensation would be worth it.

Situating himself into the pod, he strapped himself in and gave a thumbs up to the man at the oblong desk next to him. Returning the thumbs up, the man twisted a giant knob, causing the pod to lurch forward and begin to slide down down the hall. Iris followed, quickening her pace to keep up with it. 

“One more thing I forgot to mention.” The pod came to a stop at a set of sliding doors, the pod’s hatch beginning to lower. She grabbed it, stopping it halfway. “The KillerBot is a fast learner, the longer you spend fighting it, the more chance it’ll have of figuring out how to beat you.”

“Shut it down, don’t destroy it, be quick about it. Got it.” Phoenix tightened the straps, guaranteeing that they were secure enough to hold him in place. 

“And don’t get yourself killed.”

“Right, that too. Thanks.”

Iris smiled in return and released the hatch, allowing it to seal shut as it began to move again, doors sliding open to reveal the clear blue sky outside. Closing his eyes, Phoenix braced himself, the pod launching out of the jet and beginning its rapid descent towards the island.

* * *

Phoenix was going to pulverize whoever had designed this pod.

Aside from it being a ridiculously tight death trap, he hadn’t realized when he’d first strapped himself in that getting out of this thing would be a lot more difficult than getting into it had been. After landing, he’d unbuckled, prepared to open the hatch and step out, but found it to be sealed impossibly tight and after spending a few minutes struggling to open it manually had ended up punching and therefore launching it into the thicket of trees in front of him.

Now able to push himself up and out of the pod, Phoenix took a moment to stretch, working out all the little kinks and knots that had formed during his journey down to the island. The many cracks his bones let out were not at all reassuring and were only a reminder of how much older he was now when compared to the last time he’d done a mission as a Super. Sometimes he’d forgotten just how long it’d been, and in the back of his mind couldn’t help but worry that he was in way over his head doing this, but once more had to remind himself that he was past the point of backing out, and that he was here for a reason.

What that reason was, he couldn’t say. He’d spent so much time trying to convince himself that this was for his family’s sake, that he was only doing this because they needed the money, but a small part of him knew that that was only the half of it. The other half he could figure out and stop denying later, but for right now, it was showtime.

With one last definitive stretch and cracking of knuckles, he took off into the jungle. He knew that the KillerBot had to be around here somewhere, since Iris had said they would be dropping him off near the location it was last, and he wasn’t really sure just how large this island was in its entirety. He figured a quick sweep of the location might be a good place to start, that way he could try and find evidence to rule out where it had and hadn’t been, and as such was what he proceeded to do for the next two and a half hours. 

It’d soon proved to be easier said than done though, since he’d ended up having to stop and catch his breath every two minutes. How and why had he ever thought jogging was fun back in college? This was akin to some of the worst torture imaginable, although maybe he wouldn’t have minded it as much if it weren’t for the island’s humid tropical climate. It was nearly as bad as the extreme summers back home, except there he had the option of staying inside where it was nice and cool. 

Here? Not so much. Sometimes he wondered why he hadn’t ever requested a built-in cooling system for his suit, and made a mental note to do so should he ever get the chance again. It would certainly be better than sweating his ass off as he currently was. 

Taking yet another minute to recuperate, Phoenix stopped and placed his hand on an adjacent tree to avoid falling over, wiping the sweat from his brow and heavily exhaling. He didn’t know how much longer he could keep going like this, he was admittedly starting to feel a bit disoriented from the heat and it wasn’t helping that almost every corner he turned was filled with the same thick jungle foliage as before. 

If only he’d been given some kind of compass, or a GPS even, god what wouldn’t he give to have his old utility belt back. Alongside the Indestructobile, it’d been taken from him by the Agency when the relocations began. He supposed he should be grateful enough that they let him keep his suit, but only because he’d promised it was for  _ “nostalgia’s sake” _ . 

Swatting away a couple of pesky flies that were buzzing around his head, he journeyed on, this time briskly walking in place of his previous jogging. He pushed aside several more tree branches, climbed over large rocks, even sliding down a slick dirt slope at one point. Upon reaching the bottom, he discovered a clearing that was strangely devoid of any trees, any trees that were around destroyed and/or nothing but burnt and wilting. Even the one intact tree he’d discovered was only semi-intact, as he found bore some deep scratch marks on its trunk. 

Frowning, he turned to survey the rest of the area, also finding what seemed to be a large X embedded in the dirt. Before he could even try and figure out what that could possibly mean, the ground beneath his feet began to tremble, the trees behind him viciously ripping apart to reveal the KillerBot now standing behind him, claws and all. Somehow it looked even more intimidating in person, towering over him similar to the schoolyard bullies that’d used to take his lunch money. 

Or they had, until he’d discovered he’d had powers. 

Following one big schoolyard fight later they’d seen fit to leave him alone, but he was already doubting that this was going to be as easy to deal with. Because elementary school bullies didn’t have large robotic arms that were currently trying to crush him, Phoenix thinking quickly and ducking, rolling out of the way. He jumped back up only for it to strike again, its claws narrowly grazing him as he dodged, managing to tear a hole in the sleeve of his suit.

Hissing, Phoenix was surprised to see his skin had also somehow been punctured in the process, but thought nothing of it. He didn’t have the chance to, not when literally every single minute counted right now. A third claw came soaring his way and he jumped, soaring clean over to the KillerBot’s opposite side and landing on his feet. The scope mounted to its top vanished, suddenly appearing at the bottom and blinking, likely calculating its next move. Phoenix was more than glad to interrupt the process, delivering a solid blow that sent the robot flying into a large boulder.

For a moment, nothing. It didn’t move, and Phoenix grinned, about to celebrate his immediate victory when the bot pushed itself back up, scope reappeared at the top and twisting back around. Grin disappearing, Phoenix had barely enough time to move before it started to charge its way towards him, tearing through more trees and bushes on the way. He leapt, just as he had before, but was shortly met with a heavy metal claw that knocked him right into a nearby tree.

_ Shit, _ Iris wasn’t kidding. This thing really did learn fast, didn’t it?

The impact of Phoenix’s body against the tree caused it to break, toppling right to where the KillerBot was now standing. Only it retracted its arms, rolling out of the way and thus avoiding being crushed, then turned its attention back to the stunned Super. It started rolling his way, knocking over more and more trees like a twisted game of bowling, and it was all Phoenix could do to not get crushed in the process. Any of his prior exhaustion gone, he took off running as fast his legs could carry him, the KillerBot hot on his trail. It was getting way too close for his liking, he had to figure out some way to throw it off, some way to trick it--

Grabbing onto a tree branch, he launched himself out of the robot’s way, landing right on the edge of a cliff. He didn’t want to go down it but he didn’t have much say, not when the KillerBot’s persistence continued. Roughly landing on more solid ground, he picked up the largest rock he could find, chucking it directly at the machine who’d leapt in front of him. It retaliated by catching the rock, splitting it in two. Phoenix was able to dodge the first half thrown his way, but was knocked back by the second, recovering fast enough to dodge yet another claw strike and took off running again. 

Something heavy, likely another rock or the KillerBot’s limb struck him from the back, sending him stumbling over the rocky ledge and down into a pit underneath it. Dizzily, Phoenix got back up, shaking his head and slowly blinking to see that he was now underground -- and not only that, surrounded by burning red goo. Magma. 

Oh, so this was a  _ volcanic _ island. Great. He would’ve appreciated it if he’d gotten some sort of heads up about that. 

The ground suddenly shook violently, signaling the arrival of the KillerBot. Phoenix whirled around and was able to grab on to its open claw before it could grab him, hanging on fast and firm as it pushed him closer and closer towards the edge of the rock. Arms beginning to tremble, Phoenix grunted, groaning as he glanced back at the magma, which was bubbling and boiling with far too much anticipation than he would’ve liked. Now he’d had near death experiences before, but he’d never been in a situation like this, had never been close to being burnt alive before and he didn’t think he wanted to find out if he was impenetrable enough to survive a dip in searing hot magma, and he wasn’t about to either. 

Not when he still had some fight left in him.

Gritting his teeth together, he worked hard to summon up whatever strength he had left, increasing his grip on the KillerBot’s claw. Letting out a defiant yell, he swung it around and released it, sending it falling with a splash into the magma. Huffing heavily, Phoenix watched the machine sink from his view, disappearing beneath the bubbling surface.

“Hah! Yes!” He laughed, first pointing a jeering finger then fist pumping the air. “Take that you ugly piece of--ach!”

A sickening crack sounded, a sharp pain in his back ceasing his celebration. It’d seemed he’d turned just a little too swiftly in his euphoria and had pulled a muscle somewhere, bringing him out of the old days and back into reality.

Well, that and the fact that the ground was beginning to shake again.

Confused, Phoenix looked behind him to see the lava bubbling and bursting, the now very battered and  _ very  _ pissed KillerBot rising from underneath it. Its formerly cold black metal was now burning and glowing red, scope solely and completely fixated on nothing but Phoenix. Claws rose from the magma, spinning and sharp, and no doubt just as burning as the rest of it. 

“...you’ve got to be kidding…”

Still holding onto his back, Phoenix began to back away, panicking when his foot slipped and almost gave way. Spotting a chunk of rock that had since broken off and drifted away during the fight, he turned to dive for it but was unsuccessful, the KillerBot grabbing onto his legs and slamming him into the ground. Twice. It then wrapped its other arm around his wrists, beginning to stretch both sides of him in opposite directions. He screamed in pain, every bone, every muscle in his body began to strain and contort, pop and twisting. 

This was it, this was the end. This was where he died, wasn’t it? There was nothing but static in his mind, no ideas, no clever escapes to think of now he was quite literally in the grips of doom. Was this what he got for lying, for going behind everyone’s backs? Or was this the universe’s way of taunting him, by giving him what he wanted and just as quickly taking it away from him? 

_ Crack. _

Or maybe it was neither of those things. 

Maybe it’d been what he needed, because now the kink in his back was gone and he was no longer screaming. Laughing instead, and regained the strength to free himself, twisting off one of the KillerBot’s claws, sparks flying and wires severing.

Leaving the robot to humorously stare in shock at its severed appendage, Phoenix dropped to the ground and rolled underneath it to hide, only for the scope to reappear in search of him. He wasted no time in tearing it off and chucking it into the magma, leaving a gaping hole in its place. Crawling inside, he nestled himself in-between all the machinery and parts, waiting patiently while on the outside, the KillerBot began to repeatedly puncture itself in a desperate attempt to claw him out. This action proved to weaken it as it soon stopped, locking up in place. 

Popping out of the hole at the top, Phoenix tapped at the robot’s side and whistled, then dove out right as it plunged a non-severed claw into itself, yanking out what it’d surely thought to be him, but instead was its main source of power. 

That was it. That was enough to send it offline completely, and it toppled to the ground, shaking it one last time. 

* * *

Iris watched wide-eyed as Captain Indestructible -- although not unharmed but still alive, walked away from the KillerBot’s remains. 

This...was most unexpected.

She didn’t think she’d ever seen anything quite like it. The robot that they’d bragged was undefeatable, that couldn’t be beaten by anyone or anything, was now completely defunct, and so quickly too. She’d seen past fights that’d lasted over an hour, even longer, ultimately growing too repetitive to keep watching. 

But this one...she hadn’t been able to keep her eyes off of this one. What a clever move hiding inside the robot had been, she was surprised no one had ever thought of it until now. If she hadn’t been certain of Indestructible being the one her employer was looking for before now, this definitely cemented it. He had the brains, he had the strength, he was a genius and clearly wasn’t to be trifled with.

“Hm. Not quite what I was expecting…” 

She jumped, glancing back to see a shadowy figure emerge from the corner of the room, arms crossed. The figure stopped beside her, staring up at the camera footage in front of them, humming meditatively. 

“.... interesting. I suppose we’ll just have to bring him back.”

“You mean, nothing’s changed then? We’re still going through with it?”

“Of course we are, don’t be absurd.” Turning on its heel, the figure began to head towards the exit, Iris still looking at the screen in amazement. “For now, sound the all clear. Let everyone know it's safe to come back. Oh, and…” 

It stopped at the door, Iris finally tearing her gaze from the screen, and looked back at them.

“Invite him to dinner tonight. Nothing but the best for the best, right?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeahh, so I knew going into this fic I'd have to deal with a lot of action scenes, but honestly? I enjoyed this one, it was actually super fun to write despite my hesitation. I hope y'all enjoyed it! And if you did, well, I'm sure you know the drill by now. Leave comments, kudos, all that jazz, and I'll see you with an update (hopefully) very soon!


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